


I Do Not Know This Land

by BAmarino86



Category: Last of the Mohicans (1992)
Genre: American History, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, F/M, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Retelling, Romance, War, Wilderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 49,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25198492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BAmarino86/pseuds/BAmarino86
Summary: Set before and during the events of the Last of the Mohicans, we meet Cora Munro, the daughter of a British officer and a strong-minded, young woman. Together with her sister Alice, she is thrust in the midst of the French and Indian war where she has a chance encounter with a man who will change the course of her life.Reviews are always welcome. I do not own the characters or the story.
Relationships: Alice Munro/Uncas, Nathaniel "Natty" Bumppo/Cora Munro
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

England, 1743

Evening in the English countryside is not the same as in the city. The landscape is so open that in clear days the sun seems to take twice as long to dip beneath the horizon. The only tell-tale signs that another day has ended come from the varying hues in the sky: bright blue, gold, fiery red, deep pink, and finally, the deep purple shadow of the night. A young girl stood in the middle of the large garden that surrounded an elegant house, watching this display in silent awe. She was without a nurse or chaperone, accompanied only by a beautiful, porcelain doll, held tightly in her arms.

When at last, the sun had hidden its face behind a hill, she went back to her game. She moved to the fountain in the center of the garden, filled a china teapot, and then went back to a small alcove in one of the hedges that divided the garden. The branches had been cut away after the last frost of winter, leaving a cozy nook, which the child had claimed as her own. She nestled her doll, Eliza, among the low branches and sat on the dirt before a petite-sized china tea set.

The girl was busy pretending to prepare tea for her guest when she heard footsteps on the other side of her hiding place. Knowing she would get into a lot of trouble for being found outside and playing in the dirt, she crawled further into the hedge and peered through the tight-knit branches.

"Where has that girl got to now?"

"Let her be, Beatrice," answered a man in the low, rolling tones of the Scottish highlands.

"Eugenie has never given me so much trouble as she does, George. Why even Alice is better behaved, and she is but three!"

The girl's eyes widened, recognizing in the speakers her father and her mother's sister. George Munro continued walking with his hands clasped behind his back. "Alice takes after his mother."

Though the girl hadn't seen his face, she detected the hint of sadness in his tone, for she, too, shared his misfortune. Her mother had passed away a month before due to a long and difficult illness. The state of her health was kept from the girl and her sister as much as possible, and it was only when there was nothing left to do, that they'd been informed of her imminent loss.

She recalled being roughly awoken at the earliest hours of a winter morning and being taken to her mother's sickbed so she could receive her last kiss and blessing.

"Be good, Cora," her mother had whispered feverishly, pressing her warm hand against the girl's cheek. "Take care of Alice for me, will you, dearest?"

The funeral was held two days later, and nothing was the same after that. Many people came and went from their home: men of her father's acquaintance, ladies in drab, black gowns, and some relatives, few which she had recognized. Her baby sister had not noticed the change or the somber atmosphere, but Cora had bitterly resented it. She missed her mother's presence, and though she would have liked to cling to her father for comfort, she was relegated to the nursery or gardens with no other companion but Eliza.

The two adults walked farther out on the green before speaking once more, unwitting of their hidden eavesdropper.

"What shall you do now, George?" Her aunt asked.

"I've put in a request for an England post. I want to stay as close to my girls as I can."

"I thought you were about to receive a commission for America. Are you just throwing all of that away?"

"It has to be done. I won't risk Cora and Alice losing their parents one right after the other," he replied dryly.

"Yes, of course", her aunt muttered apologetically. "I can understand. Though, you know you needn't hinder your career because of the girls. They would do quite well living with Eugenie and me."

Panic rose within Cora, and she couldn't hold a small gasp. She had a difficult relationship with her aunt, whose personality was very different from her mother's. She was a hard, severe woman, and Cora could not imagine having to live with her, especially with her father halfway across the world.

"I thank you, Beatrice," George Munro said. "But there is still plenty for me to do here. America can wait."

America! Lately, Cora had heard people speak with excitement and wonder about the new continent. From what she had gathered, it was a large place, much larger than England, and it was inhabited by a different kind of people: Indians, someone had called them. They were said to have red skins and no manners, walking around half-naked, eating raw meat from woodland animals, and living in strange houses made of mud and sticks. The girl's imagination was caught by these fanciful tales, and she often wondered what it would be like to be there.

Her aunt and father had walked several times around the garden when a maid came out and spoke a few words to her aunt.

"If you'll excuse me, George. The nurse is in a frenzy because she can't find Cora anywhere. That girl is probably hiding in the attic for all I know!"

Her father muttered some sort of agreement and waited until her aunt's clicking heels faded away into the house. He then turned with his hands crossed behind his back and strode to the place where Cora had sat throughout their entire conversation.

"You can come out now, Miss Cora."

Cora padded out, clutching her doll tightly and bearing a solemn look on her face.

"Have you been sitting there eavesdropping all this while, you naughty girl?"

"Yes, Papa," she confessed, lowering her tiny black lashes.

George Munro gazed at his eldest daughter with warmth. He had been so busy since the death of his wife that he hadn't spent any time with either one of his children. He knelt and beckoned her closer.

"What do you make of your aunt? Would you like to go and live with her and Eugenie?"

Despite her young age, George had always treated Cora as though she were an adult. He nurtured and encouraged her to be open with him, making their relationship a close one.

The girl lifted her eyes to her father, and he saw they were wet from withheld tears. "No, Papa. I don't want you to go." She threw her arms around him and clung on with every ounce of strength her seven-year-old body had.

"I won't," George Munro whispered, embracing her and lifting her in his arms. "But things are going to change for us. Will you try and be good to your aunt? Your mother would have liked that." The girl nodded, mollified now that she knew her father would not abandon them.

George turned around and walked back to the entrance of the house. The lamps had long since been lit, and their light shone cozy and inviting.

"Papa?" Cora asked, resting her small head on her father's shoulder.

"Yes, my girl?"

"If you go to America one day, can I come with you?"

George Munro smiled inwardly. "Of course you can. When you and Alice are a bit older, we shall climb onto one of our great British ships and cross the ocean to the New World."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before starting this chapter I want to make it clear that I am not for cultural appropriation nor making fun of other culture's heritage, customs, and traditions, so I hope no one takes offense for my heroine's very slight transgression. This is, after all, a piece of writing done for fun and, while it is not relevant to the story, it is there to demonstrate how growing up immersed only in one culture can prevent a person from being tolerant and receptive of those different than their own. As such, I refer back to the name of my story "I Do Not Know This Land", meaning my characters still have a whole arc of learning and development to go through as the story progresses. Thanks and happy readings!

Rain spattered across the window, and the low, rolling sound of thunder echoed in the distance. Inside the house, three girls sat together by the window with disappointment written on their faces.

"Well, we can't have the party now," Cora sighed.

"Maybe it will stop raining," Eugenie suggested without much conviction.

"Can't we have it in here?" Alice piped in.

"It would just be having regular tea like we do every day," her sister replied.

For weeks, the girls had worked in persuading their aunt to allow them to have a garden tea party. They had been a model of good behavior and had worked extra hard in their studies, but the weather had suddenly turned cold and rainy, ruining their plan.

"Ladies!" a voice exclaimed behind them. "What is this I see? The three turned around and saw Aunt Beatrice standing in the doorway, her lips pursed in disapproval.

"We were hoping the rain had stopped so we could go outside, mother," Eugenie answered.

"You were just dawdling. I am afraid we'll have to postpone your little party, so I would like you to turn away from the window and bring out your work. I will not have idle girls in my home."

Suppressing a groan, the three slid from their perch and went to fetch their respective projects. Cora set up her paints and canvas next to a vase of dry flowers to continue working on a horrid still life, while Eugenie settled on the piano, and Alice pulled out her basket and embroidery sampler. For half an hour, the drawing-room was silent as the girls presented a perfect picture of female diligence. Aunt Beatrice sat with them for a while, making small comments on their progress.

"Don't slouch over the keys, Eugenie."

"Make sure no paint splatters on the carpet, Cora."

"Those stitches better be neat and straight, Alice."

Finally, she announced she would be riding over to the Ls. "I expect to be back in time for supper, so mind you have something to show for it."

As soon as the sound of the carriage had faded away, Alice stopped embroidering. "Cora, can you help me? My threads are all knotted up."

Cora rolled her eyes. "It's no wonder, the way you toss them into your basket. If you would only wrap them carefully as I taught you, you wouldn't spend half your time untying them," she answered with the superior tone of an elder sister.

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

"I'll help you, Alice," Eugenie said, readily quitting her music. "I have no patience for boring scales."

"Well, if you two aren't doing anything, I don't see why I should be the only one working," Cora said, laying down her brush.

"Can't we play at something?" Alice asked.

Cora considered this, and then a smile lit up her face. "We can, and I have the best idea for it."

* * *

Night had fallen as Colonel George Munro descended from his carriage. He had been in town for a few days attending meetings, meeting recruits, and training the new infantry troops, and he was glad to be back in the country. Like any Scot, he preferred the open air and wild, British moors to the stuffiness of London. There was freedom in the country.

The doorman was already waiting inside to take his cape, hat, and gloves. "Your room is ready sir, but her ladyship wishes to speak with you in the parlor." George thanked him and wearily ascended the steps.

As soon as he stepped into the room, he realized something serious had happened. His two daughters and niece sat at the table, each with a Bible before them, copying text from the Scripture while Beatrice embroidered and watched over them like a drill sergeant.

"Beatrice? What has happened here?" he asked.

"Hello George," she greeted calmly, though he could tell his sister-in-law was extremely angry from the way she pursed her lips. "Your daughters are in serious need of disciplining for their awful behavior this afternoon."

George looked from Cora to Alice and noted they were both disheveled and had strange color markings on their faces. He gave a deep sigh. "What did they do exactly?"

Cora's game had been a simple one: they would play at being explorers of America. In less than fifteen minutes, they had plucked a feather duster and ravaged Cora's paints to decorate their faces just like the natives supposedly did. Once their costumes were ready, the furniture in the drawing-room was moved about to create a landscape. Mountains, valleys, caverns, and even a waterfall were formed by draping a prized tapestry of their aunt's over a table.

The girls then had given way to their imagination, pretending to encounter the perils a true explorer would face in the wilderness and having a grand time. Time had passed more quickly than they'd thought, and they failed to notice the sounds of the carriage arriving, so that when their aunt entered Eugenie and Cora were pretending to fight off a bear (played by Alice, standing on their aunt's favorite chair) with fireplace pokers.

"I have never in my entire life seen such unruly, disobedient children!" She said as she finished her story. "You must put an end to this, George, because goodness knows how much more I can take," Aunt Beatrice ended, her voice breaking a little as some tears appeared in her eyes.

"There's no need for that, my dear," he said, offering his handkerchief. "I'll see to it that my girls don't cause you any more problems."

The girls had paused their copying to listen to every word, but when the adults finished speaking, they hastily turned back to their pages.

"Eugenie, go to your room." Aunt Beatrice commanded once she'd calmed down.

The girls exchanged sorrowful glances knowing what awaited each of them, and then Eugenie silently slid from her chair.

Once they were alone, George called his daughters to stand before him. He swept them with a steel-gray gaze and then spoke with the tone he used when bringing one of his men to order.

"Girls, I am not happy at all with the behavior you have displayed. This is not only an offense to your aunt but also an ungrateful way of showing your appreciation for the role she has taken to bring you up correctly."

"But papa, the garden party was ruined when it began raining, and we decided to play at being natives," Cora said.

"Be silent, child," her father interrupted. "You have no idea of what you speak. I would have expected this from a child Alice's age, but you, Cora? You're nearly a young lady, lass! What were you thinking?"

The girl lowered her eyes and tightened her fists, trying to hold back her tears. "I'm sorry."

"Now listen to me both of you, as long as you are guests in this house, you will abide by your aunt's rules. That means no more unruly behavior or I will send you off to boarding school, is that understood?" The two heads bobbed in unison.

"As for your punishment, it is up to your aunt to decide, but you are both excluded from any outings for a whole month. This means no horseback-riding, no garden parties, and no visits to the town."

Both girls sniffled as the sentence fell over them. No outings for a month! Alice glanced sideways at her sister, but Cora continued to stare fixedly at the floor.

George let the silence stretch for a bit and then spoke in a gentler tone. "Now give us a kiss, and it's off to bed with you." The girls approached their father with some hesitation, but he welcomed them in his arms and embraced them tightly to him.

Once they were gone, George sat back on his chair and covered his eyes with his hand before letting out a hearty chuckle. It had taken all his will not to burst out laughing as his sister-in-law had painted the ridiculous picture of his daughters and niece dressed up in paint and feathers, tramping on furniture, pretending to be adventurers.


	3. Chapter 3

"There you are, Cora! I've been looking all over for you!"

The dark-haired, young woman turned at the sound of her cousin's voice and caught sight of Eugenie waving her fan to catch her attention. Cora smiled at her and begged to be excused from the circle of ladies she'd been conversing with.

The Munro sisters and their cousin were in attendance at an open ball at the Maddox's London home, and it seemed as though the entire city had turned out for the event. The rooms were packed full of people chatting, drinking, eating, and dancing. Men talked about business and politics in boisterous tones, while circles of older women hid their lips with their fans as the latest gossip was exchanged. In one corner, a chamber orchestra played loudly, competing against the hubbub, and making it near impossible to hear what others were saying.

"This better be important, Eugenie," Cora said as a manner of greeting. "I just got an evil glare from Lady Eastcott for interrupting her story."

"I declare that woman never has a kind look for anyone! Except perhaps Captain Dale." Eugenie replied. "But don't mind her. I've got some exciting news for you! I've just been talking to Major Carter, and there is a dashing, young officer who's quite keen to make your acquaintance!"

Cora gave her cousin a pained look. "Eugenie, please tell me this is not another one of your attempts to make a match for me. You know I hate it."

"No, no, no! I promise I had absolutely nothing to do with it! He's in Carter's regiment and has been inquiring about you for a while," Eugenie rambled on excitedly. "Oh, here they come! Please, be sure not to scare him off until you know him better, yes?"

Cora pursed her lips in annoyance and turned her head sideways to catch a glimpse of the approaching men. She easily recognized Major Bradford Carter by the many visits he paid to their house in Portman Square. He'd been courting her cousin since early spring, and any day a proposal was expected. The other officer, however, was unknown to her.

"Ah, Miss Cora Munro, lovely as ever," Major Carter said when they'd reached the ladies.

"How do you do, Major? It has been a while since your last visit," the young woman replied with a charming smile.

"But where is Miss Alice?"

"She is off somewhere dancing, but my dear Carter, aren't you forgetting something?" Eugenie said pointedly, rapping her beau's arm with her fan.

"Indeed not! Miss Cora, allow me to introduce Major Duncan Heyward, a good friend of mine."

At this, the other officer stepped forward and gave a formal bow to both ladies, though his eyes never left Cora's face. "It is a pleasure to meet you both," he said in a low, soft voice.

Cora's smile never wavered as the introduction went on, but inside she felt weary. She was certain that Major Heyward was a fine man, like the many that had come before him. However, all the men who Eugenie had introduced to her were better suited to her preferences, and Cora was certain that the Major was no exception.

Duncan Heyward was indeed a gallant, charming young man. He was tall, with a fair complexion and a dark, penetrating gaze. He wore his hair in the fashion of the day: pulled back, curled and powdered, and bore his uniform with a deep sense of pride. At first, Cora had feared he was one of those fortune hunters who often sidled up to her and Alice in the hopes of winning a conquest and using their influence with Colonel Munro to advance their careers. But as she listened to him speak, she learned Major Heyward had already made a successful career in the military, achieving the rank of Major at the impressive age of twenty-five.

This eased her disposition towards him, for it meant he had sought out her acquaintance with more honest intentions than others. Soon another dance began, and Eugenie and Carter were invited to join in to complete a set.

"Would you care to dance, Miss Munro?" Heyward ventured after an awkward pause.

"Forgive me, Major," she answered, scrambling for an excuse. "But I believe I need to seek out my sister. I haven't seen her in a while, and I am supposed to be looking out for her."

He offered a courteous bow of the head and would have released her to go on her search when Alice appeared before them "Oh, Cora, I was wondering where you'd gotten to! I thought I might find you on the dance floor alongside Eugenie..."

"I was just coming to fetch you, dear," Cora interrupted, giving her sister a meaningful glance. "Alice, let me introduce Major Duncan Heyward, a friend of Major Carter."

Alice blushed at her outburst and attempted to subdue her merriment, though the telltale signs in her sparkling eye and flushed cheeks remained. "Pleased to meet you, Major."

"It is an honor, Miss Alice."

"Shall you both be joining in the next dance?" She inquired, looking from one to the other.

"I had asked your sister," Heyward admitted. "But she was preoccupied in finding you."

"Oh, I see." It was Alice's turn to cast a meaningful glance at her sister. "Well, Cora doesn't always enjoy dancing."

"She doesn't?" he exclaimed.

Cora winced inwardly. Even at the best of times, Alice always managed to say or do something that put her at odds. "That is not entirely true," she put in quickly. "I do enjoy dancing, but it is so tiresome in large, public balls."

Heyward nodded in sympathy. "I agree with you. The locations are often so overcrowded one can scarcely move a foot in any direction."

"Well, it seems you have at least one thing in common. I'll leave you two to chat alone, then," Alice said with a mischievous smile before returning to the dance.

* * *

Back in Portman Square, the girls had stripped off their fancy gowns and jewelry and were getting ready to go to bed.

"This was quite a successful evening, don't you think so, Cora?" Eugenie asked as she tied up her hair in rags to keep the curls intact for the following day.

Cora played deaf and continued to brush her hair, working out all the tangles.

"Is this about Major Heyward?" Alice asked from her spot by the fire, her curious mind always attentive to any sort of gossip.

"Indeed," Eugenie said, looking at her sideways. "He was very taken with her, but as always, she treated him with cold indifference."

"He seemed pleasant enough. Did you run him off too, Cora?"

Cora rolled her eyes. It was one thing to argue with either her sister or cousin, but to battle them together was too much for her to handle. She took her time, counting each brush stroke until she reached one hundred, and only when she began plaiting her long, black tresses did she answer them.

"I did not run anyone off, Alice," she said with a sharp edge in her tone. "Nor was I cold. I chatted amicably with him for a while, just like you saw."

"Yet, you refused to dance with him!" Eugenie pointed out.

"Only because it was too hot and stuffy," Cora answered, wheeling around on her chair. "Didn't you feel it? I thought I would faint from the fumes of wig powder and perfumes."

"It was quite full indeed, but I had such great fun, I hardly noticed the heat," Alice put in.

The subject evaded, the talk then turned to the discussion of the gowns and finery they'd seen, as well as the latest gossip. When at last Eugenie snuffed out her candles, Cora turned on her side, but remained awake, ruminating.

For a while now, she had noticed a loss of interest in the life that went on around her. She was tired of the same circle of friends and relatives, weary of the endless gossip that always circulated about marriages and deaths, babies, and affairs. Cora felt like an onlooker, someone glancing in through a window without taking part in what was happening.

After the difficult years of her childhood, Cora had overcome her rebellious streak and had grown quite fond of her aunt Beatrice. As she grew up, the young girl came to understand that her aunt's severity sprang not from bitterness, but from an excessive amount of self-control built up to maintain her independence in a society ruled by men.

Thus, when Cora explained her feelings, her aunt took it as an indication that the young woman was the right age to be married. She was pretty, well mannered, sweet of temper, and she belonged to one of the better families in England. She would not want for suitors. Therefore, Aunt Beatrice took it upon herself to show off her eldest niece as much as possible, bringing her along on her endless social calls and getting invitations to the best gatherings of the season, but Cora's heart wasn't in it.

Sighing, the young woman drew the coverlet up to her chin and tucked her hands beneath her pillow. She thought of Duncan Heyward and the way he had looked at her, and she hoped he was not thinking about seeking something beyond acquaintance. He seemed kind enough, and his attention flattered her, but she could not see herself living out the rest of her days as his wife.

As she drifted off to sleep, she prayed for a miracle, hoping for a change that would somehow stir her life and change the path in which she now trod.


	4. Chapter 4

Several weeks later, the Munro sisters sat at breakfast, planning their last few days in town before heading out to the country for the summer, when a manservant arrived with a letter for Cora. She wiped her lips and hands clean on a napkin and picked it up, not without apprehension. Eugenie and Alice silently exchanged excited glances across the table and watched Cora closely for any reaction as she broke the seal and read the letter.

After the ball, Duncan Heyward became a regular visitor at the house in Portman Square, making a nice addition to their party. When he was introduced to Aunt Beatrice, she was immensely pleased with him and instantly thought of him as the perfect man for Cora. Not only did Major Heward have a shining future in the British military, but his background and connections were desirable, and he deeply cared for her niece. However, Cora had neither said nor done anything to encourage his advances despite her family's badgering. So, the arrival of a letter for her naturally caused some excitement in both her sister and cousin.

Cora was already on the second page when she gave a sudden start.

"What is it, Cora?" Her aunt asked. "No bad news, I trust?"

"No!" She exclaimed, breathless. "It is a letter from Papa. He has sent for us! He has sent for us to go to America!"

Colonel George Munro had traveled to the new continent in 1755 when war broke out between the French and English. It all began as a series of small skirmishes over land claims, and at first, the British governors believed the matter would be swiftly settled. However, a year later, the fighting had spread out to every outlying territory belonging to England and France, and the military was called in to end the conflict.

Despite staying behind in England, Cora had known her father would one day send for them. She had not forgotten his promise, and she had reminded him of it when they'd said their farewells. Nevertheless, to have the evidence of it in her hands filled her with joy, and she felt the numbness within her recede.

Less pleased were her aunt and cousin as they thought it to be a frightening, uncivilized place where no decent lady belonged.

"America?!" Her aunt nearly shrieked. "Has your father gone mad? The crossing alone is dangerous, and who knows what you'll find once you arrive there?!"

"I'm sure papa has his reasons," Alice said, reading the letter over her sister's shoulder. "Besides, Boston is well within British territory. I'm sure there won't be any problems there."

"Can it be true?" gasped Eugenie. "Will you be leaving right away?"

"Not until next spring," Cora replied soothingly. "Apparently, it's the best time for sailing."

* * *

A few weeks later, Major Heyward sat with his back straight, and his hands were placed on both knees, as Cora poured tea for him. He took the offered cup and, after a sip, he cleared his throat. "So, is everything set for your journey?

"I believe so, yes," she answered, stirring sugar into her tea with a dainty motion. "We sent my father a letter weeks ago so preparations can be made for our arrival."

"That... is good," Duncan said, leaving an awkward silence to hang between them.

Cora looked at him curiously. The whole afternoon Duncan had been nervous and distracted, often drifting off from their conversation and asking her to repeat her words. As always, the young woman steered the conversation away from anything personal, turning to the upcoming season and the plans for the year ahead, but she could not help feel a little sorry for him.

"You've not been yourself today, Duncan." She pointed out when she could no longer stand the tension that emanated from him.

He glanced at her and offered a tight smile. "Is it that obvious?"

"To speak frankly, yes. Is something the matter?"

"Indeed, there is something that has been weighing on me. I've thought the matter over and over, and I believe only you can help me ease my mind."

Cora's heart climbed to her throat, and she clenched her hands together in her lap, struggling to keep calm. "If I am able to do so," she replied shakily.

Duncan remained silent for a few moments longer and then took a leap of faith. "I am certain you are aware of the profound affection I have for you, Cora." He said while gazing at her with longing. "And before you leave for America, I would ask... if you would honor me with a gift of your portrait."

Once the request was out, Duncan's pallid face became bright red, as if those few sentences had caused in him the physical exertion equivalent to a cavalry charge. Nevertheless, his entire face changed, as though the cloud that had hovered above him had suddenly dissipated. Where worry and nerves had been, there was now only hope and expectation of an answer from her.

As it was wont of her, Cora took her time in replying. This was a bold step for Duncan, almost too bold. To hand over her portrait to a young man not connected to her family could only be interpreted as a sign that an engagement was imminent, and Cora did not wish to become the center of gossip.

"I understand how this may look from your point of view," Duncan said softly, persuasively. "It is forward of me to ask and compromising to yourself, but I want you to know I hold only the highest respect for you, Cora. And I am willing to wait out as long as it takes for you to place your trust and affection on me. We are first and foremost friends, are we not?" He ended, braving a smile.

Cora met his eyes, and their sweetness disarmed her. "Yes, of course."

"Then, it would be an exchange between friends," he insisted. "Nothing more."

* * *

All too soon, the day arrived when Cora and Alice set out from London to Bristol to begin their journey to the New World. Duncan, chivalrous as ever, had offered to escort the sisters as further proof of his affection for Cora and her family.

Alice was below deck inspecting their cabin and meeting the other passengers, while Cora accompanied Duncan topside to bid him farewell.

"You've been most kind to accompany us," she said as she watched the activity about her with a growing sense of excitement.

"It was my pleasure to do so," he murmured fervently.

A bell rang somewhere above them, and the sailors began loosening the ties and bringing in the planks. "Last call! Last call for non-passengers to leave the ship!"

"Duncan, I have something for you," Cora said as she handed him a small package wrapped up in brown paper and string.

Surprised, the young man took and untied it. Inside, resting on a bed of silk lay a gilded frame with the longed-for portrait. Duncan drew a hand across it with a gentle gesture, as though it were her face and not her likeness, which he held in his hand.

"Thank you, Cora," he said. He took her hand and kissed it for the first time, before taking his leave of her.

"All aboard!"

The last planks were brought in, and the thick ropes were released, freeing the ship from its moorings. Cora remained standing by the railing, watching the crowds cheer and wave flags, wishing them a safe journey. She could distinguish Duncan, his red and white officer's uniform contrasting against the wall of dull and dark colors. He did not wave but rather silently watched the ship depart, and she knew his eyes were still on her.

When they had cleared the port and lost sight of the shore, Cora allowed herself to breathe with more ease. There was no doubt that Duncan's hopes had heightened after she'd given him her present, but she could not bring herself to refuse him outright. She hoped that distance and time would help him overcome his infatuation for Duncan truly deserved a woman who would be entirely devoted to him.

The wind picked up, filling the huge, canvas sails. The salty breeze was fresh and sharp, and Cora took several deep breaths. She looked ahead at the endless horizon, taking in the changing hues of blue. She would forget about her worries and look ahead at the new life that waited for her across the sea.


	5. Chapter 5

The three-month journey was a tranquil one for the sisters, with only one or two small storms to mar the crossing. They had never traveled on a ship and every day brought something new and exciting to discover. Alice loved spending her time by the railing, leaning out and watching the endless creatures swimming just below the surface. Fish of every size and color darted about, glittering like jewels. Dolphins frolicked and chattered amongst each other, and once, a school of manta rays swept out of the water, flapping their enormous fins like wings. Cora also loved the ocean, but she preferred to sit and watch the endless horizon extend before her, her thoughts ever turning to their destination. She often took out her sketchbook and attempted to draw the impressive structure of their vessel, but the constant rolling made for poor drawing conditions.

It was during the first days of their voyage that the Munro sisters made an acquaintance with a married couple whose cabin was only two doors down from theirs. They were Admiral Charles Whitfield and his wife, returning to America after a visit to the Isles. Mrs. Whitfield had caught sight of the young women traveling without a chaperone and immediately offered her friendship to them. She was quite a lovely woman, with dark hair, extremely pretty eyes of a violet hue, and an easy-going disposition. Her husband, Admiral Whitfield, was more serious but glad to extend his friendship to the daughters of a British officer.

"You are too kind, Mrs. Whitfield!" Alice said once formalities were exchanged. "It is our very first voyage, and everything is quite new to us."

"Oh, this is nothing, my girls, nothing!" The lady said. "Why the first time I climbed aboard one of these floating tubs, I had to strap myself to the berth just to keep in one place! Such tossing about in the weather! And poor Charles, bless him, had to care for me as there was no manservant or lady to spare!"

Both sisters blanched at this, but Mrs. Whitfield quickly dismissed their worries. "But that was a long time ago, nearly 20 years! The shipping industry has come a long way from then, let me tell you. These ships are far sturdier than those old things I traveled in."

"You mean, you've done the crossing more than once?" Alice asked in awe.

"Bless you, sweet child, yes! This will be my third crossing, but I am rather glad to return home."

Something in the way Mrs. Whitfield spoke caught Cora's interest. Though she had eagerly regaled them with her recent visit to England, she had never once spoken with longing or sadness, and more importantly, she had called America her home! Was it possible that one could become attached to another place that was not one's country of origin?

"Excuse me, Mrs. Whitfield. You speak of America as your home, yet you are British. How is it possible to love a land you do not know?"

Mrs. Whitfield's eyes twinkled with a warm light. "Ah, Miss Cora. I am indeed an Englishwoman born and raised, but there is something about this New World that stirs you in unimaginable ways."

"When I first went to America, I was but a young girl of one and twenty. I had married three years before to my Charles, and we were setting off towards unknown territory. I admit I was terrified. I had heard many a dark tale about the goings-on there, and as I mentioned before, the passage was not a pleasant one. But, I cannot begin to describe the wonder of having spent months and months at sea and then watching this wild, new land suddenly appear before you."

Mrs. Whitfield placed her hand over her heart as her breath caught by the sheer impact of the memory, and her eyes grew hazy with tears. "What a sight! Verdant forests stretching out as far as the eye can see, and light blue water washing over golden, sandy beaches. And that is only the first greeting. The rest is vast and terrible and beautiful all at once. It is not an easy place to live in, but I have come to love it.

She reached and took both her friends' hands in hers. "And so will you."

* * *

This wondrous and mystical description heartened both Alice and Cora, and every night, the three women would while away the time, sipping tea and discussing the sights they'd see. The Munro sisters had never been out of British territory, not even to visit the continent, so they were very curious about many things. Once during one of these conversations, Alice brought up her desire to see the red-skinned Indians she'd heard so much about.

Mrs. Whitfield laughed at her innocent curiosity. "This might come as a disappointment, Miss Alice, but Boston is miles and miles from the frontier with the wilderness, let alone the heart of the Indian's territory."

"You mean we shan't see them at all?" She asked, disappointed.

The older woman paused to consider this. "Well, it is an uncommon sight for them to venture close to our civilization. They do not seem to enjoy the hustle and bustle of the cities, let alone such a large, busy port as Boston."

"Is it really that big?" Cora put in.

"Oh, yes. Not as large as London, naturally, but almost as stylish."

The girls took this in. Neither would have admitted it to Mrs. Whitfield, but they had the shared idea that when they stepped out of the ship, they would be instantly transported into the wilderness. They were quite ready for the imaginary hardships of being thrust into uncivilized land, but their friend seemed to paint a very different picture.

"Speaking of which, the Admiral and I were wondering if you have accommodations ready for your arrival?" Mrs. Whitfield asked. "We are nearing land, you know."

The sisters exchanged excited glances. "Papa said he would take a house in Boston and send someone to help us settle in, but I am not certain how as we did not know exactly when we would be arriving," Cora answered.

Mrs. Whitfield nodded with a long-suffering look on her face. "Men. They never have a mind for details, do they? And with the war going on in the frontier, communications are sure to be unreliable."

Alice's brow furrowed with concern. "What happens if Papa does not know when we arrive?" She had already pictured herself sleeping in the unknown streets of Boston while trying to survive by selling their belonging right out of their trunks.

"We'll just stay at an inn," replied her sister in her calm, sensible way.

"Nonsense!" Exclaimed Mrs. Whitfield. "You shall do nothing of the sort! I could never call myself a lady if I did not welcome you, girls, into my home."

"Mrs. Whitfield, we cannot impose..." Cora began, but she was cut off by the vehemence of her friend's argument.

"Now, now. You impose on no one! Charles suggested it, and I would have offered anyway. Besides, there is plenty of room to spare, so let that be the beginning and end of your worries."

Later that night, Cora sat down on the tiny desk in their cabin and wrote a detailed letter to her father informing him of their plan. She blotted the ink and sealed it in an envelope to post it as soon as they set foot on dry land.

* * *

They sighted land two days after their conversation. Cora, Alice, and Mrs. Whitfield had been taking their usual stroll topside when the announcement was given. They ran to the railing and stared at the horizon, trying to catch a glimpse of the New World.

Cora forced her gaze, but all she could distinguish were the blue, gray waves she had grown accustomed to seeing. And then, beyond the mist, a shape began to rise. It grew little by little, gathering color and definition until, at last, America appeared before them.

Cora was overcome by a rush of emotions. She was relieved the long journey was finally over and excited to see her father after a two-year absence. But also, somewhere deep within her, Cora sensed she was finally going to find whatever it was she had lacked back home. There was no way to describe her feelings except as a search for purpose, and their arrival was only one step closer to finding it.

It still took several hours before they reached port. By then, the sun was already sinking, painting the sky a warm, buttery gold. Alice and Cora had their trunks brought up alongside the Whitfields', and together they waited for the captain to check them off the passenger list. While this time-consuming process occurred, Cora looked beyond at the busy dock.

Passenger and merchant ships swayed back and forth with the tide. Small schooners huddled together, while beyond them, British warships rose proud and tall, their cannon doors open to make a statement of their might.

"It rather feels like England, doesn't it?" Cora asked out loud.

Alice drew next to her and looked at the bustling city. "It does! How very odd. It's new yet familiar all at once." And indeed the harbor and docks seemed very much like any port back home.

At long last, they were marked off, and the group walked down the planks onto land. The boardwalk teemed with life. All around them was the noise of men shouting, horses nickering, carts rolling by with heavy loads, and the ever-present seagulls that hovered above them like decorations hanging from the sky. A little ways from them, a long line of stalls had been set up and fish merchants cried out the latest catch of the day, offering up the brine-smelling fish and crying out its attributes.

They had not gone far off when suddenly a cry rose from the crowd "Miss Cora! Miss Alice!"

The sisters turned their heads and caught sight of a familiar face. Mr. Phelps, their father's manservant, waved his hat back and forth over his head. Cora felt immense relief to know their father had received the letter and that he'd made preparations for them.

She spoke to the Admiral and pointed at Mr. Phelps, and he quickly sent one of his men to fetch him.

"Mr. Phelps! How lovely to see you again!" Alice said, greeting him with joy.

"It is good to see you too, Miss Alice," the kind man said, twisting his cap in his hands. "And Miss Cora."

"Is my father here?" Cora asked expectantly.

"No, Miss. He's been sent to Albany but should be here to meet you in a manner of weeks. He sent me ahead to make sure you had proper lodgings."

Cora felt a little sad about not seeing her father but knew that his military duties were his priority. "He mentioned something about taking a house," she said.

"Indeed Miss, but it's high season here in Boston, and only inns are available at the moment. If you will, I can escort you to a fine establishment and get a room for you both while I locate a comfortable home for you to settle in."

"Oh, but we already agreed to go with the Whitfields!" Alice exclaimed.

Cora shot her sister a look of displeasure at her rudeness and then proceeded to explain. "We've made some friends during the voyage. Admiral and Mrs. Whitfield were very kind to us throughout our journey and offered us to stay with them in case we didn't have lodgings."

"Ah, Miss, you don't know how glad I am to hear it! Over and over my wife mentioned her concern about you ladies not having a chaperone to accompany you, but all's well that ends well. I shall inform your father about this so he can come to visit you straight away."

"That would be wonderful, Mr. Phelps," Cora replied. "We cannot wait to see him."


	6. Chapter 6

June 27, 1756

Dear Cousin Eugenie,

A long time has passed since the day we parted in Portman Square, but at long last, we have arrived in America! Indeed, I write this letter from the comfort of our new, temporary home, and since Cora is taken ill with a cold, it falls upon me to relate all the exciting sights we've seen these first weeks.

Allow me to start by telling you that Boston is as civilized a place as any found in our dear, old England. It is the main port along the American coast, and every day hundreds of people arrive from Europe and the colonies in the islands to the south. This makes quite a gathering of different cultures, though we've yet to see any Indians. The city itself is very new, with large office buildings close to the waterfront and neat, red-brick shops and homes along the cobbled streets that make up the town.

One would think that being so far from home, it would be difficult to find the same commodities, but I am happy to inform you there is no lack of things like tea, sugar, biscuits, and even fine cloth and ribbons, along with many other new things. Admiral Whitfield says that most of the trade between England and the colonies arrives and departs from Boston, which accounts for its great wealth.

Oh, I nearly forgot to mention our hosts! During our voyage, Cora and I made acquaintance with Admiral Whitfield and his wife, who were returning to Boston after a spell in the Isles. Since Papa was unable to meet us when we arrived and we had no lodgings whatsoever, they kindly offered their home to us. Cora says we are truly fortunate to have them as our friends, and I agree with her wholeheartedly. The crossing would have been extremely boring if we had not had Mrs. Whitfield's tales to entertain us, or the Admiral to explain the complicated workings of a ship.

Admiral Whitfield is retired from the army now, and he is currently trying out his hand as a tobacco grower, though I think he would rather spend his time in his library smoking his pipe and reading. Mrs. Whitfield is the most amicable and charming woman, and she has been teaching us how to adapt to our new home. Can you believe nearly all the gowns we packed will have to be altered? It seems women in the colonies opt for simpler dresses without many frills and adornments, though you can find beautiful fabrics with exquisite patterns and embroidery.

The Whitfield's house is at the edge of town and quite commodious with several guest rooms, a large parlor and dining room (which I believe will be excellent at parties), and an enormous garden surrounding the house. Beyond the picket fence, you can see the tobacco fields and further still, the dark shadow of the forest. It is a wonder to be surrounded by so much untamed nature, and I can't wait to explore it as soon as Cora is well enough to resume our daily walks.

Also, our hostess has already planned several gatherings to introduce us to the best of Boston society. So far, everyone seems quite open and friendly, and etiquette here is not quite as strict as in England, which would simply appall Aunt Beatrice!

I shall end my letter for now and hope to hear from you soon. Give our love to our aunt and all our dear friends, especially Major Carter and Major Heyward. Cora says she will write soon.

All my love,

Alice

* * *

October 3, 1756

Dearest Cora,

I hope this letter finds you well. London has been terribly empty without you and Alice to keep us company. Mama keeps saying she should have never allowed you to go, but I tell her you shall be back in no time. What news have you? Tell me, are you still with the Whitfields, or have you found your own accommodations by now?

We were at a dinner party last night and had quite a long discussion of the advantages of living in America. Carter was of the opinion that it is hard to find good housing, as the constructions might be dubious at best. However, thanks to your letters, I was able to show off my knowledge, and I informed him that living in Boston is quite like living in England and proceeded to number the many advantages it offers to its citizens. However, when I was asked about the red men and their lifestyle I was unable to respond. Have you already met some? If you have, do write a detailed description, for we are all quite curious about them.

By the way, how is my sweet cousin? You must tell her that she left behind a long trail of broken hearts! Almost every young man of our acquaintance keeps asking about her, and all are visibly disappointed when I inform them of her departure to the New World. I think they fear she will fall for some handsome officer and never return to civilization! And I must say, you have not done badly yourself!

Major Heyward has paid us several visits at Portman Square and always inquires after you. Which brings me to an important matter. You must not hate me for it, but after the hundredth time Duncan asked for news, I jokingly suggested he should send some correspondence of his own. Well, he seemed so disconcerted, I immediately felt sorry for having teased him so! Nevertheless, last week, he stopped by with Carter and very politely inquired if I thought you would accept a letter from him. As he said so, he pulled out an envelope from his coat and handed it over to me to forward it! I declare I would have never expected it from Duncan, shy as he seems to be, but there you have it. I have accomplished my mission for now, and we both await your answer. Needless to say, I am all in favor of making a match between the two of you, so do not waste my precious efforts.

Have you heard from Uncle George recently? The news here is that the war is not going all that well and that soon there will be a call for reinforcements. I do hope it does not come to this, as there is a probability that Carter could get called to arms. With you gone and him following after, I would be left completely alone here! If you see my uncle, please tell him we send our love and pray you can all come back to England in safety.

I believe my letter has extended more than I expected, so I'll bid you goodbye. I must have news from you more often! Please do try and write to me at least once a fortnight.

Missing you,

Eugenie

* * *

January 15, 1757

Dear Eugenie,

What a pleasure it was to receive your letters. The post here is so slow that sometimes we can pass months without a single letter, and suddenly receive two or three at a time! How is Aunt Beatrice? Is she better now? Previously, you mentioned you were planning to spend the winter in Bath because she'd been feeling poorly. Did you meet many of our friends there?

As the year has turned and spring is already on the way, I can hardly believe it is nearly a year since we left England. It seems unreal that after dreaming for years and years of coming to America, we've already been here for more than six months. I confess I often think of home, but I do not miss it as I should. Perhaps it is because life runs its course pretty much in the same way as it did back home.

Society is mostly ruled by British law, particularly here in Boston, but there is an ease about the way things are done, though there is not much standing around for ceremony. Could you believe that we are already in first name terms with many of our new acquaintances? It is odd, but one gets used to being less formal amongst friends.

In response to your questions, I shall tell you that we have indeed seen some natives up close. They are an interesting kind of people, showing indifference to most of what happens in the cities along the American coast, as though the ocean is not the only thing that divides us from them. I am told most live in the depths of the wilderness, but the smaller towns are full of them as they often go there to trade pelts, beads, and other things. They are also said to have a deep understanding of nature, knowing how to read hidden messages in the earth and wind, which sounds like something from a fairy story.

With the war raging on, many of the different tribes have turned out to support both armies. Papa often sends his letters with a native courier, for they are amazingly adaptable and smart. Imagine that most have learned to communicate not only in English but in French and Dutch too! We are planning on spending the summer in Albany where we can be closer to my father, so perhaps we will be able to interact more with them and learn more about their culture.

As it is due, I must ask, have you heard from Duncan? Your naughty, little trick of forwarding his letter threw me in a whirl, though Alice pointed out it was quite normal to write back, as he is one of our closest friends. Can you believe her? Only sixteen and already giving advice to her elder sister?

When Papa came to Boston for the Christmas holidays, I mentioned it as a passing comment, and he said it was only common courtesy to accept his correspondence after he's taken so much interest in us. Therefore, I shall play the trick in reverse and enclose a message for him. I am sure Major Carter will be able to speed it on its way as I do not have his address. But I must warn you, Eugenie, do not get your hopes up. This is merely a friendly exchange amongst acquaintances.

Speaking of Major Carter, I would like to extend my warmest congratulations to both of you! I am so glad he has finally proposed and that you shall have the spring wedding you always wished. Carter has always proved to be an upstanding gentleman, and I am certain his kind ways will do you some good. I hope you do think of us during that most joyful day and remember that wherever we are, our thoughts and prayers are always with you both.

Please send our regards to Aunt Beatrice.

Wishing you all the best,

Cora

* * *

April 20, 1757

My dearest Cora,

As ever, it is a pleasure to hear from you. I am glad to know you are enjoying your stay in America and that you have not suffered any inconveniences due to the war. Believe when I say, we are all hoping for a quick and triumphant victory over France.

I spent the first weeks of spring in Mayfair and send fondest greetings from the new Mrs. Carter, who promises to write as soon as she has settled into her new home. It is a pity you could not attend the wedding for it was one of the merriest gatherings I had ever had the pleasure of attending. Naturally, all of London society was there: The Barrows and Halifax, Lady Stamford with her daughter, who also became engaged during the winter, and Captain Delaney with his sister, who asked me to send her regards to you. The wedding took place in Southill Park parish, and from there, the newlyweds departed for a tour of the lake country before returning to London for the season. They are truly blessed to have found one another.

And now, there is a matter that I wish to speak to you about. It is no secret between us that my affection and admiration for you grows with each passing day. In the time we have known one another, I have come to learn you are the kindest and sweetest of women, not to mention one whose opinion I hold in the highest regard. There is not a day that passes since we parted when I don't look at your portrait and try to imagine you are here with me. You fill my waking thoughts, and I don't think I can bear this silence any longer. Therefore, I would ask, my dearest Cora, if you would grant me the honor of becoming my wife?

I understand if this seems a precipitous and unorthodox way to make my proposal, but I have sound reasoning for it. Reinforcements have been called to settle the war once and for all, and my regiment is going to America. We expect to arrive by way of Philadelphia and then move on to Albany, where our orders await us. In your last letter, you mentioned the possibility of visiting that town as your father's regiment is stationed there, which I would consider a fortuitous coincidence as I will be able to pay my respects to him.

I do not expect I shall receive an answer from you as we set sail within the month. Thus, I only ask that you consider the matter. Consult it with your father, and then should God will it, give me your answer when we meet once again.

Yours devotedly,

Major Duncan Heyward


	7. Chapter 7

Cora finished reading the letter, returned it to its envelope, and attempted to continue eating her breakfast. Alice, who was busy chattering about the engagements she had that day, did not immediately notice anything amiss.

"We shall visit the milliner's today. Miss Maddox informed us that a whole new shipment of ribbons and hats has arrived from England. You know my blue hat was ruined during that rainstorm last month."

Cora murmured something but offered no additional comment.

"Cora, is something the matter?" Alice asked after a long period of silence.

"No, why would you say that?"

"You've gone all pale, and your hands are trembling."

Cora looked down and realized it was true.

"Did you receive bad news?" Alice asked, glancing at the letter.

"No, it is not bad news, quite the contrary." Suddenly, the walls seemed to oppress her, and Cora felt she could not breathe. "I think I shall take my walk now."

Alice stared at her. "But you've hardly touched your breakfast!"

"I haven't any appetite. I'll be back by the time you return from your shopping and then you can tell me all about it."

Cora put on a shawl and hat and stepped outside. The day was cool and fresh despite summer being almost upon them. She strolled down the street making her way through the usual morning crowd of street vendors, businessmen, soldiers, and small groups of women on their daily errands, but she adrift in their midst. The old, familiar feeling of being lost overcame her.

_"I would ask, my dearest Cora, if you would grant me the honor of becoming my wife?"_

Her eyes stung with repressed tears. She did not want to be coaxed into a marriage she did not want. What Cora truly desired was to quell the yearning that lay hidden in her heart. She longed for love and passion, and she knew she would never find it with Duncan. It was not a matter of whether he loved her or not, but whether he saw and understood her for who she was, and deep down, she feared that was something he could never do.

When Cora returned home close to midday, she was surprised to find a carriage waiting at the entrance of their home. The driver wore a military uniform and tied to the back of the vehicle, she saw a familiar, black horse.

"Orion!" She entered the house and ran up the steps, ripping the hat from her head. She went into the front parlor and saw their arrival was already there, sitting comfortably in a chair beside Alice.

"Papa!" She cried out with joy.

"And here's my eldest girl," the old man exclaimed, standing up and opening his arms to her. "I was just asking your sister where you'd gotten to."

"I was out taking a walk," she said as she stepped into his embrace.

"Well and good," he answered.

Cora held her father tightly and closed her eyes, allowing the familiarity of his presence to wash away her anxieties. He smelled like he always did: of gunpowder and pipe tobacco, though now she detected an added undertone of wood and fresh greenery.

"You should have written," she said, drawing away. "We could have had everything ready to welcome you."

"I thought about it," the Colonel said, reclaiming his seat. "But I wasn't entirely sure that I would be coming all the way to Boston."

"Shall you not stay long, then?" asked Alice, pulling a low stool closer to her father and sitting down on it.

"A few days, nothing more, he replied. "I've been assigned to a new post at Fort William Henry, but I had to come to inspect some of the new troops and receive my orders."

"Oh." Alice's face was a mask of disappointment. "A week is not nearly enough when we've not seen you in months."

George Munro gave his youngest daughter a gentle look. "I know, my girl, but we have the end of summer to look forward to. You will be in Albany within the month, and we'll have plenty of time together then."

* * *

That night, Cora went to her father's chamber and opened the door. The room was dark save for the chimney fire. It was an old soldier habit of George Munro's to stare at the flames while smoking a pipe before going to bed. The light flickered and danced over his features, and the sight reminded Cora just how old her father truly was.

His black hair had begun to lighten, turning to a dark gray, and the lines on his face had deepened, showing creases that had not been there before. Cora also noted his cheekbones were sunken, and his clothes fit him loosely. It was the war; it always was. Even the strongest men would suddenly grow old after a year of battling on the front, and her father had been in the military for a long time.

She knocked softly, and the Colonel turned around with a smile. "Ah, Cora, I see you've come to share a small nightcap with your old father."

He referred to the bottle of whiskey and two glasses she carried. Cora put the tray down on a side table and poured a drink for them both, making sure hers had a smaller measure than her father's. Aunt Beatrice would have keeled over and died if she'd ever discovered Cora had developed a taste for whiskey at the tender age of twelve. Her father would sometimes drink a glass before going to bed, and one day she had asked him if she could try it. The Colonel had dismissed it as a child's whim and offered her a taste. Young as she was, Cora had taken the brunt of the drink and, in time, learned to savor it as much as her father did.

The Colonel sampled his drink and studied his daughter with care. Throughout dinner, Cora had been unusually quiet, letting Alice relate all they'd done since they'd last seen him.

"I may be wrong," he said. "But I believe something is bothering you, Cora. Would you care to tell your old father about it?"

She glanced at him and blushed at the knowing look he gave her. She wasn't exactly sure where to begin but decided to go straight to the main point. "I have received a proposal, Papa."

The Colonel's eyebrows shot up with surprise. One of the many things that had worried him for the past two years was to see his daughters settled down. He feared that one day he might be caught on the wrong end of a skirmish and end up with a bullet or an arrow through his chest, leaving them with an uncertain future.

"From whom?"

"Major Duncan Heyward."

"Ah, yes. I recall you mentioned him, though I didn't know you'd become this close."

"We haven't, not really." The frustration that had built up throughout the day burst forth from Cora, and suddenly she was crying.

George Munro had always seen his eldest daughter as a strong woman who knew her mind, but to have her dissolve into tears over a simple matter like a proposal truly perplexed him. This was behavior he expected from Alice, who was sweet and tender-hearted like her mother, but never from Cora, who took after himself.

"My girl," he said in a soothing tone. "You know how important it is for me to see you and your sister settled into a family. I would have expected this news to give you pleasure, but instead, I find the opposite. Is marriage such an awful thing as that?"

"No…" Cora sniffed and allowed for a moment to pass so she could compose herself. "I don't find the idea of marriage hateful, but the truth is… I don't love him."

The Colonel's surprise increased. Cora had managed her love interests with a mastery few women ever had. She was not flirtatious, nor did she collect conquests. Instead, she held her suitors up against a high set of standards and dismissed them accordingly. When she first spoke about Duncan Heyward, George Munro had thought she had finally found a man she approved of. The Colonel had briefly met Major Heyward before departing for the colonies, and he had found him to be the type of young man he would like to see either one of his daughters attached to.

"Cora," he began in a conciliatory tone, but she interrupted him.

"Please, Papa. I have not behaved incorrectly. When Duncan and I parted in England, I made it clear we were only friends. And if I began writing to him, it was only out of politeness and because you deemed it proper."

The Colonel could not help giving out a small chuckle. "Ah, lass. No man pursues a lady with such tenacity if he does not have marriage in his mind. A friendship between men and women is not something common in our society."

Cora felt a wave of heat fill her insides and was ashamed at the naïveté of her thoughts. There had been few times in her life when Cora had felt the absence of her mother, but at that moment, she felt she needed her more than ever.

"What would you have me do?" she asked in a whisper.

"I would have you do nothing other than what brings you joy, my girl. He answered softly. "But, you should consider Heyward. I am certain he will do everything in his power to make you happy."

He took a draught from his pipe. "Did he say when he expected your answer?"

Cora let out a shuddering sigh. "Duncan is coming to America himself. His regiment has been called as reinforcement, and he should already be on his way. He mentioned he would speak to you on the matter before I gave him my answer."

"Then you still have time to think," the Colonel said. "Sleep on it, and don't rush to set your mind against him. You do not know what plans fate has for your future."


	8. Chapter 8

The carriage trip from Boston to Albany was a pleasant one for the Misses Munro. Another season was ending, and though the temperature remained warm, there were already signs that autumn would soon arrive. The trees along the well-trod road showed hints of orange and gold amongst their foliage, and large flocks of birds passed over them, migrating towards balmy, southern climates. Locked away in their carriage, the young women did nothing but stare out at the passing scenery, wondering at the fast-changing landscape. By the second day of travel, the towns grew smaller, and the farmsteads spread farther apart until they gave way to the untamed land.

Alice gazed out the window and could not imagine living alone in the middle of nowhere. Back in England, she had always preferred the peace of the country and believed that to walk five miles to reach a town was as far from civilization as one could get. How silly her perspective seemed now!

For her part, Cora could not contain her enthusiasm to leave Boston and see more of the country. The city was charming, but it felt too much like England for comfort. Besides, she needed a change to forget her worries and the impending choice she would eventually have to make.

When they finally arrived in Albany at the end of the fourth day, both women were tired and sore from the long, bumpy ride. They stepped down from the carriage, aided by one of the grooms, and looked around them with wide eyes. Gone were the neat brownstone homes and shops, replaced by low, one-story houses and cabins made of wood and straw. The streets were not paved but remained as compacted dirt, and the people who walked on them had the air of simple, country folk.

The Munro sisters were already expected at the Poltroon's house and were ushered to a small bedroom that had a lovely view of the fields behind it. As Alice managed their luggage, Cora sat to pen a quick note to her father informing him of their arrival, and another to General Daniel Webb, whom the Colonel said would channel their messages to him.

The following day Cora received a reply from the General, as well as an invitation to join him and his wife for tea.

"Must we?" Alice demanded from her spot on the bed. "I am so weary from the trip. I feel like I could sleep for weeks!"

"I'm afraid we must," Cora said, though she too shared her sister's feelings. "Father would expect it of us, and it wouldn't do to refuse an invitation from someone as important as the General.

Alice groaned and rose from the bed, opening her trunk and taking out one of the better dresses she'd brought. "So much for escaping into the wilderness," she mumbled.

* * *

The Webbs were exactly the sort of people Cora had always abhorred. They were uptight, snobby, and condescending. The General was a handsome man, but his attraction was marred by the boredom he exuded, and his wife was no different. Mrs. Webb was neither handsome nor graceful, and she was so haughty, it was difficult to feel any sympathy for her. She was also a robust woman, who insisted on wearing overly adorned gowns of heavy silk and taffeta with lace, bows, ruffles dripping everywhere. The Munro sisters, having become accustomed to the simplicity of colonial clothes, found her gaudy and distasteful.

"You are now at the edge of His Majesty, King George's territory, Misses Munro," The General said in a long drawl. "The frontier is before you, and so is the wild man's land."

Cora listened politely, but if General Webb was expecting a more vivid reaction, he was disappointed. His wife, too, looked expectantly at both of the young women, as though waiting for a chance to give her a long list of woes and complaints. Instead, she was nearly overcome with a panic attack when Alice asked her if she had spoken with an Indian before.

Mrs. Webb turned pallid. "Heaven forbid! Those savages do not belong in the civilized world, child. Why would I need to establish a conversation with one of them?"

Alice was rankled. "To learn more about them, of course. From what I've heard, they are intelligent and have a rich culture rooted in nature. What you call civilization Mrs. Webb, could very well be the exact opposite in their eyes."

Cora shot a look of disapproval at her sister, but Alice's impudence did nothing to offend their hosts.

Mrs. Webb dismissed her statement with a wave. "Ah, to be young and fanciful. Dear Miss Alice, I hope you are never in a position to discover what these Indians are truly like."

Fortunately for the sisters, there were no more disastrous visits to the Webb's after that. Instead, they were free to come and go as they pleased, exploring the small town and its surrounding areas. Albany was a truly picturesque place, and there was nothing they enjoyed more than taking a walk in the sunshine and then sitting for an hour or two to rest while Alice read out loud and Cora drew.

A couple of days after their arrival, they received a letter from their father. Colonel Munro stated they were to join him at Fort William Henry for a couple of weeks before returning to Albany with him.

_"General Webb has kindly arranged for you to be escorted by a company of the 35th regiment of foot, commanded by Major Heyward and guided by one of our trusted couriers. It is my fortune to know my daughters are in safe hands and would ask you to pass on my compliments to the Major. As for our talk, Cora, there is no urgency to settle the matter at once, but I do wish you to take into consideration what is best for your future."_

"What does he mean by that?" Alice questioned her sister as she read the letter.

"It's just something Papa and I discussed the last time he was in Boston."

"Does it have to do anything with Duncan?"

Irritated, Cora took the letter from her sister's hands. "Never you mind."

* * *

One morning the following week, Cora headed down to the cider mill, which she'd been wanting to visit since they'd arrived. Alice remained at the inn as she had some correspondence to write.

"I've not written to Mrs. Whitfield or any of our friends in Boston, and I promised Eugenie I'd write to her too."

Cora was grateful for the solitude. Her father's comment had made her uneasy, and every time Alice alluded to it, she would avoid the subject or snap at her.

Upon entering the spacious yard, Cora was overpowered by the sweet scent of apples. For weeks, the townspeople had been working in the orchards, harvesting fruit, and sending cart after cart to the mills in town. At the center, a man stood by a donkey tied to a wheel, while two burly men shoveled the red and green apples into a huge vat. When it was half-full, the man urged the donkey on, and the creature walked around in endless circles, making the wheel turn to crush the apples down into a pulp. The mash would, later on, be strained of its juices and set to ferment to make cider. The remains would then be used to make jars of applesauce, which could be bought in any store in town.

When Cora asked if she might stay and watch, the men readily welcomed her and asked her to sit on a stool underneath an awning. She whiled away the time doing several sketches and asking the workers questions about their job. The men glanced at each other in disbelief. It was curious to have a pretty lady interested in their work, but they readily answered and even presented her with an apple as a treat.

It was drawing near tea time when suddenly the clattering of hooves rose above the quiet groaning sounds of the mill.

"Cora!"

It took the young woman a moment to recognize her name. She turned around and saw Duncan Heyward jump down eagerly from his horse and hand the reigns to a boy who offered to care for it.

"Duncan!" Her surprise was genuine, and so was the smile with which she greeted him.

Despite her uncertainties and the awkward state of their relationship, it still filled her with joy to see someone from home.

When he finally released her, Duncan gazed at Cora with a glowing smile. "How long have you been in Albany?"

"No more than a fortnight, and yourself?"

"Just arrived. By God, it's too to see you!" He exclaimed.

Cora blushed profusely. "Have you seen Alice yet? She will be happy to know you're here."

"No. I inquired after both of you at Headquarters and was directed to the Poltroon's House, but they told me you were out. The keeper's wife commented she'd seen you by the cider mill, so I immediately set out to find you."

"I was working on some sketches. Albany is quite a lovely place, very different from anything in England." She answered. "But, I was just heading back."

Duncan turned to the boy and ordered him to lead his horse to the inn's stable. "Shall I escort you?" He said, offering his arm to Cora.

The young woman graciously accepted and entwined her arm with his as they walked back through the wooded avenue.

* * *

At the Poltroon's they asked for tea, and a table was set up in the field behind the inn. It was a far cry from an English garden, but the landscape was pleasing nonetheless. The tall grasses moved with the slightest breeze, bending to and fro like waves in the ocean, and the forest on the far side seemed mysterious and alluring. Duncan and Cora waited in silence as the maid arranged the tray with tea and biscuits and then left them alone.

They talked about small nothings. Cora inquired after her aunt and cousin, and Duncan related all the latest news from England and the war, but both knew they were going through the motions to get to the real subject they both needed to discuss.

At last, it was Duncan who dared bring it up after a lull in the conversation.

"Cora, I want to ask..." He swallowed hard, his face growing pink in color. "Have you thought about my proposal? Will you accept to become my wife?"

The young woman lowered her eyes and willed herself to speak calmly. "I am flattered by your offer, Duncan. You are an honorable man and quite dear to Alice and me, but... I'm afraid my feelings don't go beyond friendship."

The light of hope, which had shone in his eyes dimmed. Duncan struggled to control his feelings and then spoke. "Friendship, respect, affection, aren't these appropriate sentiments for a couple to be married? All else may follow in time."

"Some say that is how marriage works," she said in a slightly incredulous tone.

"Some?"

"Aunt Beatrice, Eugenie, my father..."

"Well then, Cora, I know when we are married we shall be the most marvelous couple in London. I am certain of that. So why don't you let those who know better: your father and myself, guide you? In view of your indecision, you should consider that."

The color rose in Cora's face as she turned away from him, willing her spirits to calm down. Her upbringing restrained her from acting out on such denigrating words, but she would have liked to speak harshly to him. It was not indecision what prevented her from accepting him, but fear that he only cared for what he saw on the surface.

Instantly, Duncan knew he had struck a wrong note. He waited for a beat or two and then spoke tenderly. "Please, consider that."

Cora steeled herself and met his gaze. She found a deep longing in them and was embarrassed by it. "Yes. I will try."

Upon this rather grim scene appeared Alice. She wore a light cotton dress with a flower pattern and a delicate lace shawl.

"Major Heyward!" She exclaimed out loud, walking to them with a glowing smile.

Both Cora and Duncan turned at the sound of her voice, and instantly their faces rearranged into lighter expressions.

"My God, you've grown!" He answered, rising from his seat to meet her.

Alice gave him a warm hug and joined them at the table. "I can't wait to see Papa," she said after asking Duncan about his trip to America. "Heading out to the wilderness, seeing the red men, and maybe even talking to them!" She let out a nervous giggle. "Are there many in the army?"

"A few. It seems most would rather keep from the war, but some tribes were angered by the French and their own Indian allies, and they have agreed to join us." Alice listened to Duncan with wide-eyed admiration as he went on speaking of tactics and plans and his hope that the war would not last much longer.

"When shall we be leaving?"

"Tomorrow." He answered, and then checked himself, glancing at Cora. "That is if you are both ready to depart."

She assented with a thin smile. Albany had suddenly lost all of its charm, and she began dreading the trip to the fort where there would be no excuse to escape from Duncan.

"If only things were different," she thought.

* * *

That night the young women finished preparing their belongings. Duncan had told them to pack the bare minimum to carry on horseback, as their trunks would come later with the supply carts.

"What were you speaking about this afternoon?" Alice asked as she sorted through her gloves to find all the matching pairs. "You both looked rather awkward when I arrived."

"I don't know what you mean," Cora said as she bent down to arrange her dresses in the trunk.

"Don't be like that, Cora. You've been restless for weeks. I know you've kept it from me, but I can guess. Duncan proposed didn't he?"

"Hush," she chided. "You should be asleep, or tomorrow you won't be able to ride."

"Don't order me about," her sister retorted. "I'm not a baby anymore, and you've yet to answer my question."

Cora sighed. Alice was right, of course. She'd been avoiding the subject with her, but she was afraid that no one would be able to see things from her perspective.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I didn't mean to order you about or to keep anything from you." She sat down at the edge of her bed. "And yes, Duncan did propose."

Alice's demeanor changed instantly. Her irritation vanished, and it was replaced with surprise and excitement. "Did he really? What did he say? What did you answer?"

"He had asked me in a letter and then again this afternoon. It wasn't truly romantic." Cora hesitated. "And, I told him I would consider it."

"But why? He came all the way here!" Alice cried out in disbelief.

"Not for me, I assure you. Or have you forgotten he is a soldier and was sent here on business more important than fetching himself a wife?"

"I suppose not," Alice conceded. "But it has been more than a year since he last saw you. I can hardly imagine the disappointment it must have been for him to have his hopes dashed."

Cora's temper rose again. "I was not rude to him. I merely delayed my answer."

"But he loves you," Alice interposed.

"Please, Alice. I can't discuss this anymore tonight. Couldn't we go to bed without quarreling?"

Alice understood her sister would speak no further on the subject, and she let the matter drop. Tenderly, she kissed Cora good night and tucked herself into the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

Cora lay down too, but she remained awake for a long time, listening to the evening sounds and thinking of the future and what it held in store for her.


	9. Chapter 9

They had been traveling since daybreak, and Cora had begun to feel the effects of the journey. The trip to Fort William Henry lasted about three days on horseback, and though the road had been easy to maneuver, she was not used to the exercise. To distract herself, the young woman turned her attention to the landscape. The area they rode through was heavily wooded, with pines, birches, and oaks making a natural roof over them. The sound of a nearby river blended with the chirping of birds and the rustling of branches and leaves. Rabbits, foxes, raccoons, squirrels, and other creatures crossed their path very often, and Cora could have sworn she once detected a pair of bright, feline eyes staring at her through the undergrowth.

Duncan had said their route would head north along the George Road, following the course of the Hudson River for the better part of two days. Then, they would leave the road and climb up through the hills until they reached the highest point from which they would be able to gaze on both Fort Edward and Fort William Henry. From that point on, they would descend towards Lake George and hopefully arrive at the fort by the end of the second day.

At that moment, Alice reined in her horse beside her sister. "Cora, I'm so hot and tired. May we rest soon?"

Cora patted her hand soothingly. "We don't know that we can stop, but I shall ask Duncan."

As if summoned by the women's whispers, Duncan spurred his horse on and caught up with them. "Is everything alright?"

"Do you think we could stop and rest for a while, Duncan?" Alice asked, wiping a gloved hand across her forehead. "I'm not feeling very well."

"Of course."

The women sighed with relief and watched the officer ride to the top of the column to consult their guide. The native, a man called Magua, had so far granted them no rest, allowing only brief stops to fill their jars and flasks with water. Cora thought he could have been a little more considerate, especially since she and Alice were unused to such long journeys over rough terrain, but she kept from complaining. Her father had sent the man for their protection. And, who better to guide them safely through the terrain, than a native with ample knowledge of the land.

Duncan soon returned to them, flushed with anger, and shaking his head. "These natives! They are so... so..." He fished about for a word that would give his words the proper strength without injuring his companions' delicate hearing. "They're so uncivilized! I'm not in the least surprised they've not gone beyond living in stick huts!"

"What did he say?"

"Not much that I understood, but don't concern yourself, Alice," he added in a gentler tone. "I've given instructions to make a stop in the clearing ahead."

The young woman nodded with relief and smiled at the prospect of descending from her mount. She so longed to take a break beneath the cool shadow of a tree, and perhaps make a small picnic of it.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream cut through the peacefulness of the forest. The travelers froze in their tracks, looking about in confusion when suddenly a wave of swift shadows emerged from the woods on both sides. Indians with tomahawks, rifles, and knives collided with the column of soldiers and began attacking them.

"Ambush! Head for cover!" Duncan called back to the women as he drew his saber and charged his horse into the fight.

Cora slid from her saddle and looked around for her sister. Alice screamed for her help as she could not control her spooked horse or descend from it. The young woman ran and held the bridle to keep the creature from rearing while tugging at the hem of her sister's gown. Unexpectedly, there came a sound of ripping cloth, and both toppled to the ground.

Swiftly, Cora sat up and put her body over Alice, protecting her as much as she could. "Stay down! Stay down!"

At that moment, Duncan's horse caught a bullet and went down, dragging the young officer with it. Cora would have screamed, but she saw Duncan quickly scramble from underneath the creature's body and pick up his sword and pistol, though he didn't join the fight again. They had been overrun so easily, he was probably hanging back in order to protect them.

An Indian who'd seen Duncan standing alone, detached from the skirmish attacked him. Cora watched the officer defend his ground and spar with his assailant when suddenly three other natives sprang from the bushes with their knives at the ready. She saw them come forward as though in slow motion, but she could not react fast enough to warn her friend of the impending danger.

Suddenly three sharp cracks of gunfire echoed in the clearing, and the attackers fell dead to the leaf-strewn ground. Cora turned in time to see three men rushing out of the woods behind them. Two of them were Indians, and the other looked to be an Englishman, though he too was dressed like them. They fought in a well-coordinated manner, protecting each other, slowly gaining ground. Their movements were quick and precise and showed great mastery of their weapons.

Duncan watched them in surprise and then went over to the women. "Are you hurt?" Cora shook her head. "Then do as I say and stay down," he barked and picked up a rifle that lay on the ground.

He raised it to his shoulder and aimed at the nearest person, which was the eldest of the three men who'd rescued them. His back was to them as he blocked the mortal slashes of a tomahawk with his sharpened club.

"No, Duncan!" Cora cried out, pulling at his coat. The man had just saved them! Would he be willing to end his life merely because he was of the same race as their attackers?

He ignored her and was just about to squeeze the trigger when the gun was snatched from his hand.

"In case your aim is any better than your judgment," a soft, stern voice said.

Cora looked up and was astonished to see it was the Englishman who'd spoken. They watched him warily, but he turned his attention away from them. He remained in place watching his companions dispatch the last of the attackers when, from the corner of his eye, he saw a native spring from behind a tree and raise a gun in their direction. With lightning speed, he followed the intended trail of the bullet and noted its mark was the eldest of the women.

Without hesitation, the Englishman prepared his rifle and dropped to one knee as the traitor's bullet went wide. He knew he had sacrificed valuable seconds and that he would most likely miss, but he still fired his shot. The smoke cleared after a while, and as he rose, he noted with grim satisfaction that he'd guessed right: the would-be murdered had escaped.

When she was sure the danger had passed, Cora rose to her feet and helped Alice up. Both sisters were dirty and disheveled, their dresses stained with mud and their faces red and tear-streaked. Cora hid her sister from view, wary of the men that were now busily searching in the pockets and satchels of the dead.

The one nearest to them was a young native who rose to his feet and turned to watch them with curiosity. He was tall and had presence and strength, which was evident in the bulging muscles that strained the green cotton shirt he wore. His skin was dark and coppery, and his face was devoid of any tattoos or markings, which made him seem less frightening. Alice peered around her sister and thought she detected kindness in the deep-set, black eyes.

His father, for there was no question the man Duncan had nearly killed was his relation, was more difficult to read. The old man's face was lined, but his vigor was not lessened by the weight of the years. He stood proud and tall, showing the same strong physique as his son. He did not bother with Duncan or the women but kept watch from a mound above them.

The last man, the one who'd taken the rifle from Duncan, was also tall, but lean and wiry. And, while his skin was tanned and weathered, it was noticeably lighter. His hair was long and pulled back from his face in the same manner as his companions, and if there was any doubt of his origin, one only needed to take a look at his light blue eyes to know he was not an Indian. He had also spoken in quite good English, though his accent denoted it wasn't used very often.

"We thank you for your aid, sir," was the first thing Duncan said when he made certain they would not harm them.

"No trouble," the Englishman answered.

"May I ask your names?"

"These are Chingachgook Great Serpent and Uncas Bounding Elk of the Mohican people, and my family. I am Nathaniel Poe, Hawkeye."

"La Longue Carabine," added Uncas with a faint grin on his face.

The young women exchanged a questioning glance at the unusual names and the relationship between the men. Duncan introduced the ladies and himself and then asked how the men came upon them at such an opportune moment.

"We traveled west," Nathaniel answered in a low, quiet voice. "Came upon the tracks of the Huron war party."

"War party!" Exclaimed the officer. "You mean this was a deliberate attack?"

"Every attack is deliberate, Major," interrupted Uncas. "The Huron were waiting for you to come this way."

"Impossible! There was no way they would have known..." but Duncan checked himself when he recalled their guide's surly attitude.

"Where were you headed?" Nathaniel continued.

"Fort William Henry."

"Where did you set out from?"

"Albany. Why?" Duncan demanded, his words taking a defensive tone.

Nathaniel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Chingachgook spoke to him in their native tongue, and they had a brief exchange before he turned back to them.

"Is anything wrong about that, sir?"

"You were misled," Nathaniel replied. "The forts are located to the north of Albany. A two-day journey."

"We know," retorted Duncan. "How far are we off-course?"

Nathaniel glanced up at the sky to check the position of the sun. "Not much. The fort is two nights and a bit from here, but the terrain is difficult," he announced.

"Is it possible you could lead us to the fort?" Duncan asked Nathaniel, but it was Chingachgook who replied.

"Better you walk back to Albany," the old man said. "The trodden road is the safest road."

"Please," said Cora, stepping forward. "We wouldn't ask if it wasn't of the utmost importance to get there."

The three men were surprised at her plea and exchanged meaningful glances. "It is not far, father," said Uncas. "And we were traveling in that direction."

"But not near the forts," Nathaniel countered. "Remember what Jack Winthrop said, the fight along the frontier has spread, and the area will be full of French soldiers."

Chingachgook considered his sons' opinions and meditated for a while. They were both right, of course. Their path lay northward, and it would not be too much trouble to lead the English to Fort William Henry, but they risked getting caught up in another battle. He looked down at Uncas and Nathaniel's attentive faces and then at Major Heyward and the Munro sisters. "We'll take you as far as the fort."

Nathaniel turned back to them. "Find yourself a pistol or a musket. The women too."

Duncan nodded and began collecting as much powder and bullets as was possible, while Cora sought for a gun that was not near a corpse. She had found one for herself and one for Alice when suddenly she heard her sister scream.

"No! Stop it! What are you doing?!"

Cora whipped about just in time to see Uncas give their horses a few smacks of the rear to scare them off. The animals, free of their saddles and reins, escaped into the woods.

"We needed them!" Alice cried out, lifting a hand to strike the young man.

Uncas caught her hand in mid-air and lowered it gently, all the while staring down at her with keen interest. Alice was so shocked and angry at how forward he was that she tore her hand from his grasp. "Why would you do that? Those were our means to travel!" She demanded.

"Too noisy and easy to track. We would be caught as soon as we headed out."

Cora, who'd watched the entire scene, gasped in dismay. Like Alice, she had always expected to continue the trip on horseback, but then again, the men would surely take shortcuts that would be difficult for the poor animals to manage.

Cora went to her sister and put a comforting arm around her waist. "It's alright, dear," she murmured. "We shall do our best to keep up."


	10. Chapter 10

The unlikely group left the site of the massacre behind and began moving north as the afternoon fell. The forest through which they traveled grew denser, the trees gathering close together, their tall canopy nearly blocking out the light of day. As the day progressed, the sounds of birds and other creatures faded away, leaving only the early chanting of crickets and the occasional call of an animal. The travelers themselves made no sound, as their footsteps were muffled by the mushy ground over which thousands of leaves and needles had fallen. This was a problem for the women for the ground was often uneven, and it was hard for them to walk without stumbling every few steps, though this was the least of their worries.

Both Cora and Alice were very shaken after the ambush, and they often halted in their tracks at any strange noise, fearing it was not the call of a wildcat or a bird, but a signal for another attack to begin. Every nearby shadow seemed like an assailant ready to jump out, and even the sound of fluttering leaves startled them. For this reason, Alice did not dare walk more than a few feet behind their guides.

At one point, while they walked through a heavily wooded area, her shoe slipped on a moss-covered branch, and she fell against Uncas, who'd been walking right in front of her. The young man almost toppled over himself, but with a swift motion, he regained his balance and managed to grab her hand to steady her.

"I... I... I'm sorry," Alice stammered in fright. She had not yet forgotten her behavior towards him, nor how he'd stared at her.

However, Uncas seemed to have forgotten the mishap. "Are you alright, miss?" He asked kindly, waiting for her to find sure footing.

She swallowed and nodded as he released her hand. "You can try to lift your feet more. Step over branches and roots. You'll fall down less."

Alice offered a timid smile and waited for him to move ahead before she continued walking, though she did remember to follow his advice.

A few hours later, they came to the edge of the woods. The treeline abruptly ended as though sliced away by a knife, and beyond it ran a wide, rushing river. Cora was dismayed at the idea of having to cross it. It was all very well for Duncan, who wore trousers, or in the natives' case leggings, but she and Alice had been trudging all day in heavy skirts and managing the rough terrain on dainty shoes unfit for anything but a garden party.

"We're not going across, are we?" Whispered Alice.

"Not here," said a voice behind them. It was Uncas, who now brought up the rear. "The river will help confuse anyone looking for our trail. We will travel beside it and cross at a point above the falls where it is dry. At dusk, we'll see what happens."

Their fears momentarily appeased, the women strode on, but Duncan was not wholly satisfied with this idea. "I say, scout, is this a suitable plan?" He said, catching up with Nathaniel.

"We don't know what we'll have to face. It is always better to wait. And, I ain't no scout, yours or anyone's."

"I thought all colonials were assigned to the militia at the forts!"

"We aren't colonials," Nathaniel interrupted pointedly. "We are trappers if what we do has a name. We travel west to winter in Can-Tuck-Ee."

Duncan's face grew a deep shade of red. "But there is a war going on! How is it you are heading west?!"

The growing arrogance in the officer's tone galled the young man, and he stopped and stared at him squarely in the eyes. "Well, we kind of face to the north and real sudden-like turn left. This is your war, not ours. We don't want any part in it. Clear it up any?"

Nathaniel continued walking as if nothing had happened, and after a long while, he spoke up again. "Your guide. You said he was the man who sprang from the tree as the fight ended. Where did you find him?"

Duncan took several moments to recall. "Munro sent him to General Webb. He said he was one of his Mohawk allies."

Nathaniel scoffed and shook his head. "That's no Mohawk. He's Huron."

The revelation didn't have any effect on the officer, and Nathaniel gave an exasperated sigh. "The Huron are allied to the French," he explained. "Just like the Abenaki, Ottawa, Algonquin, Potawatomi, and many others. You English would benefit more by learning to distinguish the peoples of this land instead of trying to overrun us."

Duncan sputtered with rage, but Nathaniel ignored him. "What reason had he to murder the girl?"

"What girl?"

He motioned with his head towards Cora. "The dark-haired one."

"Miss Cora?" Duncan exclaimed, his fury checked for a moment. "Murder her? I don't think he's ever set eyes on her before today!"

"No insult was given or blood vengeance?"

"Certainly not! Miss Cora Munro is a lady, and besides, she's only been in Albany for a week or two."

Alice gave her sister a worried glance. Cora had heard the entire conversation, and all the blood drained from her face. She could not recall seeing their guide during the skirmish, only before it, and she had not crossed words with him at all during their short trip. How then could he have intended to kill her? Nathaniel remained silent, considering this information when suddenly Chingachgook called for him. He sped up to catch up with his father and left Duncan, Alice, and a very distraught Cora to follow behind.

* * *

A day passed, and the group continued their arduous journey. They rose early, just as the sky turned a lighter shade of blue, and hastily ate some of the provisions they had brought with them before setting out. Their path took them away from the valley they'd walked through and began an upward climb into the hills. According to Chingachgook and Nathaniel, this was the safest route as it would avoid most of the territory controlled by France, thereby reducing any danger. For the most part, the group walked in pairs: Alice and Cora together or with Duncan, Chingachgook always remaining at the head, and his sons alternating beside him.

The women were extremely tired after an uncomfortable night, but they found solace in the beautiful sights the land offered. Above the treetops, the air was cool and crisp, and eagles and hawks soared the strong currents up to incredible heights. The mountains beyond stood out clearly against the horizon, their snow-covered peaks glistening in the sun. Directly below them, the trees seemed like a green sea with golden spots, swaying back and forth with every gentle breeze. It was both wondrous and daunting, and Cora thought that the stories had all fallen short in their description of the New World, for there seemed to be no words describe it or what it inspired within one's soul.

Along the trail, there were certain places where their path narrowed so much, they were forced to walk in a single file. Whenever this happened, the English were alternated with the natives to ensure their constant protection. On one of these occasions, Cora found herself walking behind Nathaniel, and she studied him intently, wondering how he had come to be with Chingachgook and Uncas.

She had, of course, heard horrible tales of savage attacks on small farms or cabins where all the inhabitants were killed or taken captive. Had this happened to Nathaniel? Had he been stolen from his family and home? She considered Chingachgook. The old man seemed peaceful and wise, and he treated his adoptive son the same way he did Uncas: as though there was no difference between them. If he harbored any hate for the English, would he have taken Nathaniel under his wing? Or would he have agreed to help them in the first place?

All of a sudden, Uncas gave a loud whoop and pointed his finger to the sky. "Fire!"

They lifted their eyes and saw a single column of dark smoke rising into the air. He exchanged a worried glance with Nathaniel and turned to Chingachgook, who nodded. Swift as deer, the young men sped ahead of the group, their weapons at the ready, while the others followed at a more moderate pace.

"Where are they going?" Alice asked. "Could there be another attack?"

"Don't worry, we'll find out soon enough," Cora answered, though she too felt the clutch of fear grasp at her heart.

They descended into a clearing and found the smoldering remains of a lone cabin with a barn and a small orchard.

"Keep quiet and stay close," Chingachgook warned them.

The young women walked beside Duncan, who kept his sword and pistol out, but there was nothing there that would attack them. As they drew near the ruins, the officer caught sight of the bodies strewn on the grass. He halted and turned around to hold the sisters back, but it was too late.

The bodies of a woman in a white sleeping gown and a baby lay on the ground, splattered with blood. The walls of the ruined cabin had caved in, and another body could be seen among the debris. Cora put a hand over her mouth and stifled a cry, while Alice hid her face in Duncan's chest and sobbed.

Chingachgook turned back and spoke quietly to Duncan. "Major, please take the women to the orchard. My sons and I will find out what happened here."

Duncan nodded and turned back, herding the women away. The apple trees on the orchard were still heavy with fruit, and Alice picked several and handed them out. They sat down under the shade of the trees, and though the food and rest were quite welcome, their mood was a grim one.

Yet again, Cora found her mind turned upside down. What was it about this place that such violent things happened to good and innocent people? She kept seeing the woman's blank stare and shuddered at the thought it could have been Alice or herself. Was this the consequence of the raging war that ravaged the country? Or was it just the way things were in America?

Their guides were absent for the better part of an hour, and when they exited the cabin, they crouched in a small circle, muttering amongst themselves. When Cora and the others joined them, they rose with somber determination painted on their faces. They picked up their satchels and weapons and began walking towards the far end of the clearing where the woods began again.

"We are leaving," Nathaniel said.

The English stood perplexed. Were they simply going to leave the bodies in the open-air, without any ceremony? Duncan stepped forward and, for the first time, spoke in a gentle tone. "Let us look after them. It cannot take long."

"Let us go," came the harsh reply from Nathaniel.

Cora was shocked at his frigid attitude and followed behind him. "Surely they are entitled to a Christian burial, even if we knew not who they were."

"Leave them, Miss."

"I will not!" She answered sharply, the accumulated shock and bewilderment finding an outlet at last. "I have seen the atrocity of war before, sir, but I've never seen it carried out on innocent women and children, or people whose cold indifference should reach the same level of its cruelness!"

Nathaniel had been purposefully walking away from Cora, blotting out her accusations. But, to have her call judgment on him without having the slightest idea what this tragic discovery meant, filled his aching heart with rage.

He whipped around so violently that she had to take several steps back. "They were not strangers," he said through gritted teeth. "And they stay as they lay."

Though Nathaniel stared at her with eyes as hard as steel, Cora did not back down. She knew it would not do to anger these men who were helping them get to the fort, though her sense of justice demanded her to fight it out until the end.

"Cora, let's just go," Alice said timidly, approaching her with uncertain steps.

Cora fought silently against Nathaniel for a few more moments and then lowered her eyes. She took several deep breaths and waited until she was sure Nathaniel had moved on. When she looked up, she saw him, far up ahead beside Uncas. She waited a bit more and then, ripping her eyes away from the tragic scene, resumed walking.


	11. Chapter 11

Dusk descended quickly in the woods, and the group walked in semi-darkness long before the stars appeared in the sky above. It seemed to Cora they had climbed halfway up a mountain before Chingachgook instructed they were to stop for the night. There was nothing particular about the spot except for a moss-covered mound, above which the older man climbed. Nathaniel placed himself nearest to the bottom, and Uncas and Duncan rested on either side, giving them a good vantage point from which to detect any approaching enemies.

The sisters found a spot of soft grass and cleared it of any rocks or sticks before laying down to rest. They were exhausted physically and emotionally, but sleep seemed to elude them both.

"Cora, are you awake?"

There came no answer, but Alice knew how to interpret her sister's silence. She was certain Cora was still caught up in the discovery of the attacked farmstead and then subsequent events.

"Uncas, Nathaniel, and Chingachgook looked very grim when we left the clearing. I think they must have known that family," Alice went on.

"It may be so, but it was still cruel and inhuman to leave those people to the elements," Cora answered with a voice thickened by repressed tears. "What differentiates us from any beast in the land, if we don't act when we're supposed to?"

Alice did not have a reply to this. The men's behavior perplexed her as much as it did her sister. "Nathaniel did seem very angry, especially when you stood up to him."

The young man's face swam into view, and Cora could see the icy eyes flashing as she attempted to stare him down. He'd made her feel ignorant and wholly unwelcome, and she couldn't bear to carry those feelings around.

Suddenly, she sat up. "I'll be back in a while, Alice," she murmured, rising to her feet with fierce determination and walking over to where Nathaniel kept watch.

He was hidden in the shadow of a tree trunk, his rifle Killdeer at his shoulder, and his face turned to the mist-filled woods. He did not stir even as he felt her sit beside him.

Cora waited for a beat or two, not knowing how to approach the young man who was as foreign to her as she was to him, yet still determined to extract an explanation from him. "Do you believe in God, Mr. Poe?"

"Nathaniel. No mister." He glanced sideways at her, his features unreadable. "I believe there is a greater being watching us, yes."

"Then, why did you leave those people there? Do the natives not believe in burying or granting peace to the dead?"

"You would be surprised how many rites the Mohican people and the English share, Miss. We too believe in the importance of honoring the dead, but at the moment, we have to get you safely to Fort William Henry without giving away our position. My family is well-known in the region, and if we'd buried them, anyone looking for us would have known we'd been there." Nathaniel's voice carried a hint of sadness. "If you've seen war before, Miss, then you know sometimes sacrifices must be made."

Cora was thunderstruck. She was so used to have her thoughts and opinions dismissed as feminine faults that she had not thought Nathaniel would have a real reason for their actions. She was truly sorry for accusing him of cruelty.

"You were acting for our benefit. I see that now, and I apologize for my behavior." Yet there was still something bothering the young woman. "Back in the clearing, all of you seemed more affected than I would have thought. Did you know those people?"

Nathaniel took a long while to answer. "John and Alexandra Cameron. They were friends."

She would have spoken her condolences, but Nathaniel raised a hand to hush her. He then leaned forward, readying his rifle. The young woman peered over the ferns and saw several ghostly shapes emerge from the forest, walking in their direction. Cora's heart quickened, and it took all her willpower to keep still. She counted four men: two Indians and two French, moving about in the darkness like wolves searching for their prey.

One of the Indians halted as if he'd met with an invisible wall and signaled the other three to stop.

"Qu'est ce qu'il passe? Allez!" A Frenchman hissed, motioning with his head at the rising hill upon which they hid.

"Non. Pas possible." Answered an Indian with a deep voice.

"Pourquoi?"

"Parce que non!"

The Frenchmen decided it was best not to question the natives' decision and retreated, allowing the forest to regain its previous serenity.

Cora waited, counting backward from one hundred to one as she and Alice had done when playing hide-and-seek, and concentrating on breathing deeply. Once she had calmed down, she stood to go back to Alice, but before she had risen, Nathaniel caught hold of her upper arm and pulled her down so hard she nearly fell on top of him.

"Stay. They may still be out there."

Cora obeyed and slid back down, both shocked and offended at the ease with which Nathaniel had grabbed her.

It seemed like a long while before the young man finally relaxed his stance. He set his rifle to one side and then leaned back against the tree, his head cushioned by the moss that crept over it.

"Why did they turn back?"

"We are in burial ground, and Ottawa do not disturb the dead." He answered matter-of-factly. "We should be perfectly safe for now."

Cora shuddered as she realized they'd been hiding in a cemetery all this while! With childish fear, she inspected her surroundings, half-expecting to see the outlines of gravestones and pale-white specters floating in the air as she'd heard tell in stories, but the woods looked the same as before.

"You, sir, make no sense." She said in a judicious tone.

Nathaniel turned to look at Cora. Her face was half serious, half exasperated and her lips formed a small pout that somehow made her look endearing. Despite himself, the young man was amused and slightly perplexed. The complexity of English women was not a mystery he had ever expected to decipher.

"The same is said about you, Miss Munro," he said, letting a slight grin play on his lips.

"About me?"

"Not particularly, no." He replied, further entertained. "About the English. My father…"

"Your father?"

"Chingachgook. He has said many times to not try and understand the English, and to not try and make them understand us."

"Why not?" She asked indignantly.

"Because you are a breed apart and make no sense. Your ways will never be like ours, and you won't bother to learn to live in peace with us. Why waste time explaining to someone whose eyes and ears are closed to everything around them?"

Cora considered this for a moment. It was true the English did not bother to learn about the world they so eagerly set out to conquer. Duncan believed it to be so, and her father as well. She had heard him repeat it often enough: "British policy is to make the world England," and they had achieved it to such an extent that most of their colonies were merely extended parts of the empire. However, Cora was not ready to give Nathaniel the satisfaction of winning the argument... at least, not yet.

"Explain to me then, why the Cameron's were victims of the natives of this land? Is it custom for the savages to attack those who live at the mercy of the elements, without any kind of defense?"

"That is not our fault. The frontier is the only place where the poor can live: retired soldiers, farmers, people who fled England to begin a new life. They have no money, and your country does nothing for them. So, they go off into the land and build their homes, clearing woodland for their fields without caring if it belongs to others. It is the native people who must gather their things and leave, searching for other places to make space for English greed."

Cora started at this. She just couldn't understand this man! Was he for the English? Was he for the natives? "I thought those people were your friends."

"They were, but it does not alter the truth. We have been forced to live in this manner. It is an unbalanced way of life, but it is a way of life, nonetheless," Nathaniel ended.

"You speak as though you were a stranger to us," Cora continued. "Yet, you too are English-born. Where are your parents?"

"Dead. My sisters as well. I was small, one or two-years-old, when Chingachgook found me with two trappers. His wife, Wah-Tah Wah, asked him to take me with them. I went. A few years later, Uncas was born."

Cora did not know what to say about this strange story. There was no sentiment in Nathaniel's words. He spoke of his life as though it had happened to someone else, and she said as much. He understood to some extent what the young woman was trying to figure out about him, but there was no way he could put it into words.

"I cannot have affection for someone I don't remember," he answered. "I love my father and brother, and when she was still with us, I loved my mother." Nathaniel paused and then began telling her a story.

"My father's people believe that when the Sun and his brother, the Moon, were born, their mother died. They emerged from her womb and found all that was left was her body. They did not have the chance to know her sweetness, kindness, or warmth. The Sun, in honor and gratitude, gave her body to the Earth so her goodness would fill the land, making it rich and bountiful. And the Moon opened her breast, and from her heart withdrew her soul in the form of stars, placing them in the sky so she would never be forgotten."

Nathaniel turned his face up to the sky and motioned towards it with his head. "So, there stands the monument of those lives that were offered to the Giver of Life: the Camerons, their children… and my family too, I guess. So you see, Miss Munro, I may not remember them, but they are not forgotten."

Cora watched the infinite, black void dotted with the sparkle of thousands of stars and felt like she'd been embraced by a gentle spirit. She wanted Nathaniel to keep speaking. She wished him to explain how he saw the world and to teach her to see it that way too. The way he spoke was philosophy and poetry wrapped up in simple words, yet their meaning was so powerful, it captivated her heart.

"You are right," she said at long last. "I do not understand this land or anything that is happening here. I admit it is not as I imagined it to be living in Boston or London."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"No! No. On the contrary, it is all more deeply stirring to my blood than any imagining could possibly have been," she exclaimed with heartfelt honesty.

Nathaniel held her gaze, and something passed between them. Their minds, different in so many ways, had reached a mutual understanding. Neither one knew the purpose destined for them the moment they were born, but a beckoning call had summoned them to life, linking them in ways unknown to the secrets and mysteries of the land both called America.

"Sleep now, Miss Munro," He murmured. "You will be safe tonight."

"It's Cora," she said shyly before tearing her eyes away from him.

The young woman settled her head down on the cushioned carpet of leaves and turned slightly away from Nathaniel so that he could not see the smile that had formed on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I know there are many Uncas/Alice lovers out there and while I did want to make this chapter all about Cora and Nathaniel, I can promise that the younger couple will get plenty of time for themselves!
> 
> Translations from French to English:
> 
> "Qu'est ce qu'il passe? Allez!" - What is happening? Let's go!
> 
> "Non. Pas possible." - No. Impossible.
> 
> "Pourquoi?" - Why?
> 
> "Parce que non!" - Because no.


	12. Chapter 12

The following morning dawned cool and bright. The birds awakened little by little, their small chirps and calls echoing across the woods.

"Miss Munro. Cora."

The young woman woke with a start. She turned her head and distinguished Nathaniel's figure standing above her, his warm hand pressed against her shoulder, gently shaking her awake.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"Nothing. It is almost time to go."

Cora assented and brushed the slumber from her face. She had slept more soundly than she'd expected, and as she rose, she was happy to discover her body did not ache quite as much as on the previous day. It was only as she looked around for her sister, that Cora realized she'd left Alice all alone during the night. Feeling a stab of guilt, she picked up her skirts and went over to the spot where she'd left her.

Alice was already awake and wrapped in a heavy woolen blanket. "Where were you last night? You never came back," she said as Cora approached her.

"I needed to settle a matter with Nathaniel," Cora smoothly replied as she sat beside her.

"You mean about the Camerons?"

Cora was surprised. "Who told you that?"

Alice's face reddened. "I woke up in the middle of the night and saw you weren't back yet. I started to panic and was about to go looking for you when Uncas came over. He told me you and Nathaniel were keeping watch, and then he sat with me for a while. He told me about the Camerons: John, Alexandra, their son James and the baby, Agatha."

Cora suspected there was something else that her sister was not telling her, but as she had not offered any explanation about her behavior. "Nathaniel told me about them too." Then, she changed the subject. "We came very close to being discovered by a group of natives and French scouts last night."

Alice's eyes widened. "Were they the same men that attacked us?"

"I don't think they were looking for us, more likely they were keeping watch, but it must mean we are nearing the forts."

At that moment, a sleepy-eyed Duncan came up to them. "Good morning, ladies."

"Good morning," greeted Alice. "Did you sleep well?"

"As best as one can under the circumstances." He looked tired and pale, with dark shadows under his eyes. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," answered Cora, avoiding his gaze. From the way he spoke, it was clear he had not noticed her talking to Nathaniel. "Better than yesterday."

"Well, at least we know today we shall have a proper bed to sleep in."

Cora could not help feeling a twinge in her heart at the thought they would soon part ways with their companions, but she had no chance to give a reply as Chingachgook told them it was time to go.

* * *

That day Cora was oddly subdued. She walked in silence behind Alice and Duncan, lost in thought, and answered all questions in monosyllables. Her sister attributed it to weariness, but the truth was that there was turmoil in Cora's heart. Coming to America and being thrust into the midst of this wild country was changing her, and after speaking to Nathaniel, her hunger to discover it had grown. Cora wished to be a passive watcher no more, to plunge into the fast-paced current of the world and let it sweep her off into the unknown. But, this would never be possible if she married Duncan. He would whisk away to England, and she'd go on living the same life as before.

The group stopped after the sun began its slow descent towards the horizon. They were now very close to the fort, but they ran the risk of encountering an Indian war party or a French patrol; therefore, their guides and Duncan gathered to discuss the options they had to reach their destination.

The women took the opportunity to rest and sat below the boughs of a tall sycamore, eating cornbread provided by Uncas and drinking sweet water from an adjoining brook. The food was hard and gritty, but to the sisters, it was just as good as a three-course meal.

From her comfortable spot, Cora followed Nathaniel with her gaze, appraising him unabashedly. Was it possible they had met, but a few days ago? Her words from the previous evening came floating back to her from the void of memory.

_"It is more deeply stirring to my blood than any imagining could possibly have been."_

Now in broad the daylight, she blushed at her audacity and questioned how she'd come to confide in him. She hardly ever revealed her thoughts to anyone, even those close to her. Perhaps it was the limpid gaze in his eagle-like eyes which had compelled her to do so.

"He does not inspire trust, not exactly," Cora thought to herself. "It's more like being forced to be straightforward with him for fear he won't understand my foreign thoughts." Or could he, perhaps, understand them better than she did herself?

Nathaniel stood beside Duncan, straight and proud, with a hand on his hip while leaning on Killdeer. She guessed his real family must have been a handsome one, for his features were noble and proud, but his movements and expressions were all Mohican.

Her eyes turned to Uncas, who held himself in the same easy manner as his brother. Though young, both had a quiet sense of dignity and wisdom inherited from their father, and it visibly clashed with Duncan's pompous manner. Cora tried to picture Nathaniel against the backdrop of the civilized world, in proper English attire, and she failed. Whatever his origins, she could not allow her mind to rip Nathaniel away from this land, which was the only one where he belonged.

A loud, booming sound pulled her from her reverie, and she glanced about for the source. Alice too, stirred from her spot. "Was that thunder?"

Cora lifted her face and tried to penetrate the deep foliage of the trees above them. Though the sky was rapidly losing light, it was mostly clear, and the few clouds that floated in it were thin and wispy. "I don't think so," she said. "It does not feel like it's going to rain."

The noise echoed again in the open, and this time Nathaniel, Uncas, and Chingachgook rushed on as nimbly as deer, guns at the ready. Duncan followed them huffing, as they climbed to the top of the ridge. By the time Cora and Alice joined them, they could see dark billowing clouds lighting up here and there. It was as if the storm they'd been searching for had settled in the middle of the lake below, releasing its fury.

"Cannon," murmured Uncas.

"Fort William Henry is under attack! We must get there immediately." Duncan exclaimed.

Uncas and Nathaniel turned to their father, who considered the matter calmly. "The western shore is the most protected from enemy fire," he said after a pause. "Is there a way in through there, Major?"

"I believe there is, yes."

"Then get some rest. We wait for nightfall to cross."

* * *

"Cora. Cora."

The young woman opened her eyes and saw Duncan, kneeling beside her, shaking her awake.

"Is it time to go?" She asked, a little annoyed at the way he'd been leaning over her, gawking.

"Yes, the battle is ongoing, but we are ready to cross the lake. Hopefully, this ordeal will soon be over."

Cora detected the eagerness in his tone and knew Duncan would be glad not only to arrive at the fort but also to be rid of their guides.

Cora nodded and discretely shook his hand off her arm. "Come, Alice, we've got to go now."

Nathaniel and Chingachgook had gone ahead in search of a canoe. They knew the Indian allies of the French used them as a method for transport to and from Lake George, and it would prove the safest for the women. This left Uncas, Duncan, and the two sisters to climb down to the lakeshore.

"I'll come back for you, Alice," Duncan stated as he readied to descend with Cora.

"No need to, Major," Uncas interposed. "We would lose time, and it is a difficult climb back up. If you wish, I can help Miss Alice."

Alice warmed with pleasure at this display of chivalry from Uncas. He had been very kind to her throughout their journey, and though he hardly ever spoke, she had noticed often noticed the young man stealing glances at her.

"I think that would be best, Duncan," she said. "I wouldn't want you to tire out."

"It is no bother. You are both my charges, after all."

Sensing Duncan's hesitation about the young native, Cora stepped in. "I wouldn't want to leave Alice and Uncas behind, Duncan. What if they are attacked? Besides, we don't know how long it will take us to get into the fort."

The young officer conceded after a moment's reflection, and the two groups began their slow descent. At first, Alice tried not to lean on Uncas too much, but there were places where the inclination was very sharp, and she had to hold on to him for support. Every time this was necessary, Uncas would take her hand to lead her, once going as far as taking her by the waist and bringing her down to the ledge where he stood. She had felt extremely embarrassed, not only at the close contact with the young man but also because it secretly thrilled her.

Chingachgook and Nathaniel were waiting for them at the shore beside their stolen transport. The canoe itself was nothing more than several planks of wood joined by deerskin sinews dipped in bear fat to repel water. It was also quite small, for three people at most, and Cora worried they would all have to find a way to accommodate all six of them. However, Chingachgook instructed her and Alice to climb inside and keep their heads down. Once they were ready, the four men waded into the water, each holding on to an edge to keep afloat and direct the vessel correctly.

As they grew closer to the fort, Cora could hear the hissing sound the cannonballs made as they fell through the air and the rattling crunch of the wood and stone as Fort William Henry took hit after hit. The familiar, yet unpleasant smell of gunpowder permeated the air and caught in her lungs, choking her. Behind her, Alice was determined to remain calm. They were near safety now, and in a matter of minutes, they would be within the fort. Still, every time the cannons fired, the young woman bit her lip and trembled.

After what seemed an eternity, the canoe thudded against the gravel on the western shore, and they disembarked.

"We're on your side now, Major," Chingachgook said in a low voice. "You will go first, followed by the women."

Duncan agreed and led them around the side of the fort and up a long, dirt path that led to the gate.

"Hallo! Who goes there? Identify yourself!" Came the cry from the bastion above them.

"Halt! Don't shoot." Duncan called out, stepping into the light of the torches with his arms raised. "I am Major Duncan Heyward! I am here with a small party that includes Colonel Munro's daughters!"

There was a moment's pause, and then came the response. "Raise the gate!"

No sooner had they been granted access when another volley began. The blasts shook the walls and filled the air with smoke and dirt. They ran the last few feet to the entrance and were ushered inside by a guard.

Inside, chaos ensued. Soldiers stood on the ramparts of the fort, firing at the French army below them, making each shot count. The colonial militia was also there, but only the sharpest shooters were allowed to fight. The rest of the men were given tasks such as replenishing ammunition, tending to the wounded and keeping track of the advancement of the French trenches. Uncas and Nathaniel exchanged quizzical looks at the way these people did battle but began to feel the infectious excitement of war in their young blood.

"Nathaniel! Chingachgook! Uncas!" Someone cried from above. They turned their heads and caught sight of a colonial dressed in black, waving his rifle back and forth.

"Jack Winthrop!"

"I thought you said you weren't joining in our fight!"

"We didn't!" Uncas called out.

"Just came by to see how you boys were doing. Lend you a hand!" Nathaniel teased, before moving on.

Suddenly, the sharp whistling of a shell echoed in the night, and a series of cries called out to head for cover. Duncan took both women by their arms and urged them on, quickly following the soldier who was leading them to the main headquarters. They had nearly reached the building when a figure stepped outside. Cora looked up and was awash with relief as she recognized her father.

"Papa!" Alice called out, running to him with all of her might.

"Cora! Alice! Why did you come?" The Colonel exclaimed in disbelief as he caught one daughter against him and saw the other following close behind. "And where the hell are my reinforcements?" he yelled furiously at Duncan.

As her father ushered them into his quarters, Cora looked back at their guides. She suddenly realized this could be the last time she saw Nathaniel. Their eyes met, and somehow Cora knew that he had understood the deep feeling of sadness that now filled her.

Once inside, the Colonel gave instructions to prepare a room for his daughters, as well as pallets for the men who accompanied them. Duncan would be stationed with the other men in the soldier barracks.

"I told you not to come. Why did you disobey me, girls?" George Munro asked once they were left alone.

Cora looked from her father to Alice and back. "When? How?" She asked breathlessly.

"My letter! I sent several messages to Webb."

"But there was none. There was no letter, only a guide to escort us here!"

It was then left to Duncan's to inform him of the treacherous courier who led their party straight into an ambush from which the men accompanying them had saved them. The Colonel seemed to grow older and grayer as he received the news.

"Does that mean we cannot expect reinforcements anytime soon?

"Sir, Webb isn't aware we are under attack, and he certainly won't think to send men just for the sake of it. Our forces are already as spread out as can be across the border."

Munro leaned heavily on the table and cursed at the woodwork. "Damn! Damn!"

"If you need men, why not send another message to Webb?" Uncas spoke up.

"It's a three-day journey back to Albany, sir," the Colonel answered in a strained tone. "By the time reinforcements get here, we'll be dead or guarding a pile of burned down sticks."

Duncan started. "But, sir, Webb's not in Albany! Two days after us, he marched the entire 60th company to Fort Edward."

Colonel Munro was stunned. "Webb is at Edward? That's only twelve miles from here! We can send a messenger and have reinforcements the day after tomorrow!"

Cora would have liked to stay and listen to the men's conversation until the very end, but Mr. Phelps arrived at that moment to lead her and Alice to their accommodations.

Alice looked at her father with concern. "Go with your sister," he urged her. "I'll speak with you both tomorrow."

They obeyed, but Cora could not help hesitate over the threshold, looking back once again at the three men who had saved their lives, and at the man who had awakened her dormant soul.


	13. Chapter 13

Mr. Phelps led the women through a dark corridor with a low ceiling. "I am sorry we cannot offer a proper room for you, misses. We've had a difficult three days," he apologized.

"That's quite alright, Mr. Phelps," Cora answered kindly. "I am certain it is more than we could expect."

He opened a door to reveal a small storage room. Barrels and crates had been hastily stacked against the far wall to make space for two pallets, a table, and a couple of chairs. A fire warmed the room to a cozy temperature, and a tub filled with water waited for them.

"You'll find clean clothes in a small trunk beside the bed, and I'll see about bringing you some dinner. You ladies must be quite hungry."

"Thank you, Mr. Phelps," Alice said.

The man gave her a warm smile. "Not at all, Miss. We're just grateful you arrived safely."

Once alone, the two sisters readily removed their garments, leaving only their shifts. They slipped into the warm water and took their time to scrub away the grime, dirt, and blood of three days of harsh travel. Afterwards, Cora sat on a small chair beside the fire, inspecting their clothes in hopes there was some way to preserve them. Alice stood behind her, combing her fine, long hair while gazing thoughtfully at the flames.

"Do you think they'll leave?" she asked suddenly.

Cora did not need to ask to whom her sister referred. Up until they reached the fort, she had not considered that once they'd been safely delivered, there was no real reason for their guides to remain. Chingachgook had made it clear they had no interest in the war, and both his sons had repeated it as well. Would they be gone the following morning, continuing with their lives as though their meeting had been nothing out of the ordinary? The thought saddened Cora and filled her with an odd sense of abandonment.

"I don't know. I don't believe it is possible to leave the fort at this point."

"Cora," her sister continued. "Yesterday evening, when we were hidden in the woods, what did you talk about with Nathaniel?"

"Oh, nothing of true consequence," she replied lightly. "He spoke to me about the land and his family. He is English as we had thought, but was raised by Chingachgook and his wife because his family died. What did Uncas speak to you about?"

"Oh... not much," Alice said in the same careful tone her sister had used. "He told me about their plans for the winter. He said they would trap over the fall and winter with their Delaware relatives. Then, when spring came, they were going to Dutch outposts to trade. It seems like an uncertain way of living, just to travel the land without a fixed residence, but it also sounds wonderfully interesting, don't you think so?"

Cora considered this. Everything was so foreign that she felt she would need a lifetime to learn the skills to survive in the wilderness. However, when compared to the boring, repetitive life she'd led in England and Boston, it was not hard for her to have a preference.

"It IS an interesting way of life or at least one that is very different than anything I've ever experienced. But, who knows? Maybe one can take a liking to it."

* * *

The following day, Alice woke with a slight fever, and Cora deemed it necessary for her to stay in bed. The shelling had ceased in the middle of the night, and the English were using that brief moment of peace to make repairs and strengthen the weakened spots along the fort wall.

When Mr. Phelps brought the women's breakfast, he politely informed them that their help would be needed in some tasks, as there weren't enough people in the fort to help out.

"Your father thinks it would be of great aid if you helped out with the sick, Miss Cora."

The young woman nodded. She had anticipated her father would ask her to help with the wounded as he had done in previous campaigns.

"What about me?" Alice asked. "I can't let Cora do all the work while I just sit here and do nothing."

"Alice, you must rest..." Cora began, but her sister shot her an angry look that stopped her mid-sentence.

Mr. Phelps noticed the exchange and thought for a moment. "I wouldn't want you to strain yourself, Miss, but we are running low on cotton. Perhaps you can help us with rags and bandages for the infirmary."

Alice readily accepted, and Mr. Phelps provided old sheets and a knife for cutting the long strips of cloth before leading Cora to the infirmary on the other side of the fort.

The building was once used as storage for the fort supplies, but the increase of sick or wounded men made it necessary to make it into an infirmary. Soldiers were brought in from the battlefield on stretchers, and they often had to suffer through several hours of excruciating pain before the physician got to see them. Also, many suffered not from the wounds of the war, but from diseases like typhoid, putrid fever, and dysentery. Those who contracted any disease had to be kept in a separate space so they would not infect the others, but often the stench that emanated from their beds filled up the entire building. Additionally, the medical supplies were quickly running low, and what was left was saved for the men who were most likely to survive. The rest had to bear out their pain with only a few sips of rum to quell it.

Cora was not entirely unfamiliar with the way things were run in a military infirmary, but her status as a lady prevented her from serving at the surgeon's table. Instead, she took care of minor wounds, which could be quickly dispatched, and every few hours, she made rounds to check on the men. She changed their bandages, gave them food and water, and kept them company. By early afternoon, she was more tired than she'd been during their journey to the fort, but she never stopped looking out the window, trying to find Nathaniel among the crowd.

Evening fell, and Cora's shift was just about to end when Uncas appeared in the infirmary. He had nothing more than a bullet graze on his side, but it made his movement quite painful. Cora was a little self-conscious at having to treat him, especially when he removed his shirt and stood all but naked before her, but she did her job efficiently so that no physician could have done it better.

She cleaned the gash out with water and covered it with a herbal ointment one of the nurses had prepared. Throughout her inspection, Uncas hardly uttered a word, but merely obeyed her instructions as she worked, making her feel shy. This unsettled Cora, though not enough to wonder if it would be awkward to ask him about his Chingachgook and Nathaniel.

She was still debating with herself when the guard posted at the entrance announced she had another visitor. Cora looked up, pushing back a strand from her unkempt hair, and saw Nathaniel in the doorway, framed against the yellow of the campfire lights.

"About done holding hands with Miss Munro?" He teased his brother.

Uncas grinned, and a mortified Cora turned to her worktable, busying herself with a bandage for Uncas. Though she had wished to see Nathaniel throughout the entire day, she had imagined their meeting would happen in a setting different from a room smelling of sickness, blood, and unwashed bodies. She had also expected to be presentable for him, but instead, he found her sweaty and disheveled from working the entire day.

Nathaniel strolled nonchalantly to a basket where the bandages had been organized in neat rolls ready to be used. He inspected several of them until he found one that satisfied him. "May I use this?"

She nodded mutely and forced herself to concentrate on her task. "The wound will seep and then draw. Try to keep pressure on it and to change the bandages often."

"Thank you, Miss Cora," The young man said, shrugging his shirt back on. "Looking for tight weave?" Uncas asked his brother.

"Silk. Another forty yards for Killdeer," replied Nathaniel, without looking up as he cut away several strips. "We need to get more for Jack and the rest of the boys."

"Alice could help you with that," Cora offered. "She's down by headquarters in charge of the linen, I am sure she can find some silk for you there."

The brothers looked at each other and exchanged a few words in their language before Uncas went in search of the material. Cora used that moment to hastily make herself more presentable. She washed her hands in a basin of water laced with eucalyptus, smoothed her hair back as best she could and removed the dirty apron she wore over her skirt.

When she turned back, Nathaniel was done with the cutting and was now putting away the strips in a pouch that hung from his belt.

"Will you be needing anything else?"

"No," He replied, sheathing his knife and walking to the door. "I think I've got everything I need."

Cora let out a deep sigh and turned to her worktable feeling disappointed. She looked up to catch one last glimpse of Nathaniel's retreating figure and was surprised to find him still there. He stood on the threshold, his eyes fixed on her.

The young woman was unnerved by his steadfast gaze, and she fought the urge of running away to hide from it. "What are you looking at sir?" She asked, raising her chin in defiance.

"I'm looking at you, Miss," he said and for a brief moment, Cora forgot to breathe.

He spoke as though there was no one else in the world to look at but her. As though no other man and woman would ever have a connection such as theirs. Cora held his eyes just as she'd done at the Cameron's, but this time she allowed a smile to appear on her lips, the first one in a long while.

* * *

On the other side of the fort, Alice worked the whole day tearing sheet after sheet until her hands grew sore from the effort. It was very dull work, and every once in a while she would take a break and stand by the doorway. She followed the comings and goings of soldiers and colonials alike and never lost a chance to scan the crowd for their guides.

At midday, she received a visit from the Colonel, who had yet to dedicate some time to his daughters. Seeing him now, in broad daylight, shocked and saddened Alice. In her mind, George Munro had always been the epitome of strength, but he was so aged, that at forty-five, he looked like an old man at the end of his days.

"Papa, what will happen now?" She asked as he took a chair beside her.

"We stand our ground. If your new acquaintances are right, my courier will reach General Webb, and we'll get the reinforcements we need."

"Oh! I'm glad they're still here," Alice exclaimed, pleased with the unexpected piece of news. "They were so kind and helpful to us."

"I'm sure they were," said the Colonel distractedly. "And if their aim is as good as their advice, then we'll have nothing to worry about."

There was a long silence as he ruminated his worries and then, realizing Alice was watching him with a furrowed brow, turned to her. "And you, lass? How are you doing? Your sister told me you were feeling poorly."

"Only a little," she admitted. "But I've still been helping out."

The Colonel offered a gentle smile to his youngest daughter and took one of her chafed hands in his. "I'm sorry you were caught up in this mess, Alice. I cannot imagine you and your sister facing unnecessary dangers to be with your old father."

"Oh, Papa! Please, don't say that!" She murmured as the need to cry clutched at her throat. "We are as well as can be, and we would be sick with worry if we'd remained back in Albany! Besides, it was an adventure of sorts."

George Munro was surprised at this. He considered Cora to be the stronger and hardier: a true Scotswoman if he ever saw one, and Alice had always seemed to be like his wife: sweet-tempered, delicate, and fragile. However, her words reassured the Colonel that she could take care of herself without depending on anyone.

"All's well that ends well, I suppose." He answered with a faint smile. "At least, we'll see this through together until the end."

* * *

As evening fell, Alice went to the cookhouse and fetched dinner for Cora and herself. As she walked through the fort, she looked up at the sky and noted that it had darkened to a deep blue. Sadly, the light and smoke from the many campfires did not allow her to see the stars, and she wondered if those same stars shone their light on her friends and family back home.

She mulled this over as she returned to the storage room, where much to her surprise, she found Uncas leaning against the wall, waiting.

As soon as he saw her, he straightened up. "Good evening, Miss Alice."

"Hello," she greeted shyly. "Were you waiting for someone, sir?"

"I was waiting for you," he replied simply.

Her heart pounded violently against her ribcage, and Alice hoped he wasn't able to notice her agitation. "Me?"

"I need some bandages. Miss Cora told me you could help me get some."

"Have you been hurt?" she gasped, running her gaze over his body.

Her reaction and assessment drew forth a smile from him. "Only a bullet graze. I am looking for silk for our rifles if you have any."

"Oh, of course," Alice said, feeling a stab of annoyance and embarrassment. She was letting her wishful thinkings get the better of her.

She opened the door to their makeshift chamber and put down the food tray she'd been carrying. Uncas stepped just inside the doorway.

"You can try to find some in here," She pointed to a small barrel overflowing with rags. "There may be more, but I'll have to look for it."

While Uncas sorted through the cloth, Alice searched in the boxes and crates lined up on the far side of the room, though she kept stealing glances at him. She had kept it a secret from her sister, but there was no point in denying to herself that the young Indian interested her deeply.

She closed her eyes and recalled that night in the forest when Cora had left her all alone. She had been quite frightened to discover her sister was gone and would have begun screaming had not Uncas appeared beside her. As one would do to calm a child, he had spoken in a low, soothing voice that quickly eased her fears. Indeed, his presence had so soother her, that she had fallen asleep while leaning on his shoulder. It was the first time she'd been that close to a man, any man, and she had reveled in it.

"Miss, are you alright?"

Alice abruptly came back to her senses and realized Uncas was staring at her. "Yes, it was just a dizzy spell. I'm quite alright now."

She returned to her search but did not have any luck in finding silk rags. She paused to think for a moment, and then she remembered the gown she'd worn during their journey from Albany. It was made out of a bolt of silk she'd bought right after arriving from England. Mrs. Whitfield had taken them shopping, and she'd chosen it because of its flowery pattern and lovely color.

Alice opened the small trunk where her dress had been laid aside and took it out. "How strange it is to think there are places where such things still matter," she thought as she worked in ripping two-inch strips of fabric without any ceremony.

"Here," she said when she'd finished, handing Uncas several rolls.

The young man looked curiously at the delicate, rose-colored cloth that stood out from the drab, beige ones he had set aside.

"Where do these come from?"

"They were mine, from my dress. It's mostly ruined, so I don't think I'll be using it anymore."

Uncas looked from the young woman to the piece of silk in his hands and back. "May I keep it?"

Never in a million years would Alice have expected that question, and she was stunned for half a moment. "I... I guess... If you wish..." She stammered as her cheeks grew hot.

What did this mean to him? To her? She was still too young to have practiced the art of flirtation, but back in Boston, she had learned a thing or two from her friends. One of those things was that when a man asked a woman for her favor, it was to show an open declaration of their love. Duncan had asked Cora for her portrait. and this had led to his proposal. Was this Uncas' way of showing he had affection for her?

The young man took a strip of silk and wrapped it around his belt so that it hung from it with the rest of his trappings. He lifted his eyes to her.

"Thank you, Alice," he murmured, speaking her name without the formal epithet that reminded them there were such things as social conventions.

Her honeyed eyes widened, enveloping him in their warm light. Carefully, as though approaching an animal in the wild, the young man stepped closer and took a strand of Alice's hair. It was soft, and it shone like gold when the light hit it. She allowed Uncas' caress, and when he brushed her cheek, she found herself leaning into the large, rough hand, pressing her palm against it. Alice had not known, could have never guessed, how much she had longed for his touch.

She leaned forward, parting her mouth to welcome him, and he closed the distance between them in a warm, passionate kiss. Never in her life had the young woman experienced such a wave of overpowering emotions. He tasted ripe, like an unknown fruit whose taste she'd been yearning for all her life, and Alice found her arms lifting to his neck, bringing him closer.

Though Uncas was not quite as inexperienced as Alice, he was surprised at the young woman's eagerness. She was soft and affectionate, and he could sense a latent passion yearning to burst from her. He yielded under her touch and let his arms envelop her, feeling her supple body pressing against his own.

Alice would have lost herself completely in Uncas' arms had not a bugle call echoed in the courtyard, shattering the moment. The young lovers separated quickly, as though they'd been burnt.

"I should not be here," Uncas said breathlessly.

Alice colored and lowered her eyes in embarrassment. Uncas was right, of course. What if Cora or her father had walked in and found them in that compromising position? She turned away from him and hugged herself.

The young man interpreted her silence as a dismissal, and he quickly took the rolls of silk from the table and headed towards the door without saying anything.

Before she could reconsider her actions, Alice called out to him. "Wait!" He hesitated on the threshold and glanced over his shoulder. "Uncas, I... I wish to see you again."

He was startled at her request and could not give credit to what he was hearing. Did she want him? Alice Munro wished to see him again? Could it be possible? The bugle echoed once more as though reminding them they were not alone in the world.

"They are waiting for me," he said softly. "I'll come back tomorrow."


	14. Chapter 14

The siege carried into the next day. The French continued to bombard the fort, wreaking havoc and terror and using the moments of peace to dig the trenches that brought them closer to victory. Inside, Colonel Munro fought to keep his men's spirits up while holding out hope that their plan to send a message to General Webb would work.

It was early afternoon when Cora was sent on an errand to fetch clean sheets from her own small room. The young woman was glad for the break and took her time enjoying the clean air and sunshine. After the previous night's encounter with Nathaniel, her spirits had improved, and more than once she caught herself thinking about him. What would it be like to hold him in her arms? What would a kiss of his feel like? Taste like?

Cora happened to pass by the doorway to the high-ranking officers' headquarters when she heard loud voices. She peered in and saw a small crowd formed by Nathaniel, Uncas, and several colonials arguing with her father.

"It wasn't a few rebellious natives. It was a war party, and they murdered an entire family! Who's to say they won't keep at it?" Nathaniel argued passionately.

"I cannot allow my few resources to go fight some made-up terror," Colonel Munro answered curtly. "There is no proof of what you say. It may have simply been common thieves."

Uncas then stepped forward, visibly angry at the Scotsman's blindness. "They stole nothing," he said in a low growl. "Anything that would have been taken before the fire remained there."

"What other proof do you need?" A thin, blond man said. Cora recognized him as the same one that had greeted them from atop the fort when they'd arrived. "These men were known in this country long before you, English arrived. Their word is as good as anyone's and certainly better than yours!"

"Watch your tone, Mr. Winthrop!" Colonel Munro snapped. "While you remain here, you are under British law and therefore liable to prosecution for insubordination."

"We had an agreement with Webb!" Jack Winthrop said at the same time Nathaniel called out. "Ask Major Heyward!"

The Colonel sighed heavily. The argument was going nowhere. He turned to Duncan, who'd been standing behind him, glowering. "Major, would you care to shed some light on the situation?"

Duncan stepped forward and swept a haughty, cold gaze over the group. "General Webb indeed accepted to the colonials' terms, but there was nothing at the farm that indicated an attack. It looked more like a raid. Besides, these people could have had their differences with the natives, and the result would have been the same."

"You liar!" Nathaniel roared at the same time a chorus of voices rose up in outrage. "It is not your women and children dying out there!"

Cora let out a small gasp and felt a cold fury descend upon her. She had never seen Duncan act any other way than that of a courteous and honest officer, but his deliberate lie had revealed an entirely different person. She could only guess at Duncan's reasons for disliking Nathaniel, but his personal feelings should not cloud his objectivity as a military officer and a gentleman, especially when there were innocent lives in danger.

She took one step forward and then stopped herself from bursting in the scene. If she'd been more daring, she would have spoken up and given her testimony of the attack, but she knew better than to question a man's word in front of his peers, none more so that when her father was in command. Such was the way of the world that women had to bear their burdens in silence because of men's absolute rule on society.

At that moment, Duncan turned his face and caught sight of her just beyond the doorway. His eyes widened, and a white pallor instantly replaced the angry flush on his face. Cora gave him a reproachful look and then hastened away, unable to listen anymore.

* * *

When Cora reached her room, she found Alice asleep on the bed. The previous night she'd been very quiet and withdrawn, and Cora suspected she had not yet regained her full strength. Remembering not to sound bossy or condescending, the young woman had suggested for Alice to rest another day in their room and was quite surprised when there'd been no argument against it. Now, as Cora stepped into the dim chamber, she trod carefully, trying to not make any noise as she opened the crates where the bedsheets were stored.

She was nearly done collecting them when Duncan burst in without knocking, looking agitated. "Cora!" He called out loudly.

She shot him an angry look and put a hand to her lips, motioning to the figure on the bed.

"I... I wanted to talk to you," he continued more softly.

She was about to send him away when Alice stirred. "Talk to Duncan, Cora," she murmured, sitting up on the bed.

"Alice…"

"Don't worry. I couldn't sleep anyway."

"But you must rest." Cora insisted, all the while ignoring the officer who stood to one side looking quite flustered.

"I am fine", Alice replied. "I cannot forever be an invalid schoolgirl, can I? I shall see if Mr. Phelps needs anything."

The door shut behind her, and Cora was left alone with the person she least wanted to be with at that moment.

"Forgive me. I did not know she was ill."

There was no reply, only a dense silence that did nothing to alleviate Duncan's anxiety. He knew Cora well enough to know she was angry, but there was also something else that bothered him. He could not tell exactly how or when, but Cora had begun to distance herself from him, and he suspected it was all because of Nathaniel.

"Cora, I know you are vexed about what you heard, but I hope you can understand my loyalties are first to my king and country. Though those men helped us get here safely, it is an entirely different matter to allow them to decamp to fight some imaginary threat."

"They go to protect their families and defend their land, Duncan! Surely their loyalty to the crown is not diminished by that."

"It is not, but those men knew what they signed up for when they joined the militia. They should know sacrifices have to be made for England to prevail!"

Cora gaped at him. Did Duncan believe her to be blind or stupid? She was an officer's daughter and had experienced firsthand the sacrifices men made for their country!

He mistook her silence as a softening of her disposition and approached her, taking her hands in his. "Please, do not concern yourself with these matters. When everything is over, and we are away from this place and married, all that was seen and heard here will be irrelevant. Nothing more than a bad dream."

"Duncan, you have forgotten I have yet to give you an answer," she said, slipping from his grasp. "There are things I cannot forget as easily as you wish and others that I will not. What I saw today only strengthened my resolve that I need to keep true to myself. I thank you for the attention and compliments you've given to me and mine, but I cannot accept your proposal. Please take this as my final answer." When she finished speaking, Cora held her breath and saw how Duncan shrank back from her as though scalded by her words.

"I see," he said after a long, awkward pause. "I apologize for having bothered you." He offered a short bow of the head and then left her to go nurse his heart somewhere alone.

* * *

Alice had not gone far from the room when she suddenly felt a light touch on her shoulder and heard a low voice. "Alice." She whipped about, and her breath caught in her chest when she saw Uncas standing before her, his dark eyes watching her warmly.

After their encounter, she'd spent all her time imagining the delights their next meeting would bring, though she had not expected to find him just outside her door.

"Where are you going?" He asked, displaying a small smile.

"Nowhere really," she admitted, coloring slightly. "Duncan and Cora had something to discuss, and I did not want to be in their way."

Uncas raised an eyebrow at this. "Are the Major and your sister quarreling?"

"I don't know. It looked like it, which is why I told her, I would go see Mr. Phelps."

Something flashed across the young native's dark eyes. Disappointment, perhaps? "Then, he is expecting you?"

"Oh, no! It was just something to pass the time."

Uncas' face cleared, and he gave her an enticing smile. "Would you like to come with me instead?"

Alice's eyes sparkled at this, but she hesitated. "I would love to, but my father..."

For some reason, Uncas looked up at the sky. "It would only be an hour at most."

She bit her lip. She'd not been outside in two days, and she was getting tired of being locked up in her small chamber. "Alright," she answered. "I will."

Taking her by the hand, Uncas led Alice to a staircase that led to the top of the bastion. Fortunately for them, few people were milling about, and most had their attention turned to the courtyard, waiting for dinnertime.

They walked along the top of the fort until they came to the side that faced Lake George. The sun was just setting over the hills, casting its last rays of light upon the water's surface, and everything was bathed in a warm, buttery glow. Alice could only stare wide-eyed at the beauty of the landscape before her.

"Everything seems so different from up here!" She breathed. "I could almost imagine there is no raging battle, no enemy waiting for us beyond the fort walls."

"It can be so," Uncas said as he leaned forward on the wooden edge, his arm brushing Alice's slightly. "There are places where the land is still untouched by the English or the French."

"Truly?" She asked, turning her golden gaze upon him and sending shivers down his spine.

Uncas pointed ahead. "Beyond the mountains to the west, the land goes on and on. Forests melt into valleys and then to open plains. The peaks of the mountains reach so high that they are covered with snow even on the hottest days of summer, and the rivers run with water so clear that you can often see to the bottom. The game is plentiful, and the creatures are so tame that you can come up to them, and they will not run away in fright. Other tribes live there, and they mostly live in peace.

"It sounds wonderful," Alice whispered, entranced by the paradise Uncas described. "I wish I could see it one day."

"You will."

Alice turned her gaze to him. "Is that a promise?" Her tone was innocent, but her eyes sparkled with mirth.

Uncas swallowed, suddenly unable to formulate words. The dying light of day enveloped Alice, and he was stunned by the vision that she was bathed in gold. He cupped her cheek and lightly ran his finger over her eyelashes to verify that they were not covered in the shiny dust.

Alice giggled. "What are you doing?"

"Everything about you is always brightness and light," he murmured. "That is why I brought you here so that you can admire this sunset and shine along with it. And yes, I promise to one day show you what lies beyond this land."

Alice had never listened to anyone speak that way before. She was so overwhelmed with emotion that tears brimmed in her eyes and slipped quietly down her cheeks. Uncas was surprised at her reaction, but her smile told him her tears were of joy.

In a single move, he took her in his arms and kissed her with passion. Alice's eyes fluttered shut, and she let herself slip into what could only be called a dream. She stopped thinking about the world outside and concentrated only on the feelings that washed over her. She could feel Uncas' body pulsing with energy against hers, seeking for a way to satisfy the passion that drove them both. Without meaning to she bit his lip, eliciting a passionate response from him. He clasped her to him, and his kisses became fiery and more urgent. An audible sigh escaped from Alice's lips when Uncas suddenly wrenched himself away from her.

She was left holding nothing but air, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. "Is something the matter?"

Uncas did not respond immediately, but Alice saw his shoulders shaking, and she was sure she'd done something wrong to make him turn away. She walked up to him and gently placed her hand on his arm. "Forgive me," she murmured. "I'm quite a novice at this and do not know how to act."

"It is you who must forgive me, Alice," the young man said. "For putting your virtue at risk."

"You? But how?" She asked, shocked by this revelation. How could such a passionate exchange between two people who loved one another be wrong?

He offered a soft smile and took her hand. "It's already been longer than an hour. We should get you back."


	15. Chapter 15

Night fell, bringing a chill wind that blew in from Lake George. But, neither the threat of winter or the imminence of the French affected the besieged residents of Fort William Henry. That evening, a festive air permeated the courtyard as people gathered around campfires to talk and relax after another day of constant worry. Someone even took up a fiddle and played simple country tunes to which couples happily danced. Cora sat by a window, taking a few moments to rest and listen to sounds of merriment.

After returning to the infirmary, she'd spent the rest of the day surrounded by men who coughed or whimpered in pain. The stench of blood, rot, and human waste, and the accompanying physical strain was beginning to get the better of her. She would have liked nothing better than to go back to her room and curl up on the bed and sort through her feelings, but her duty as a commanding officer's daughter prevented her from doing so.

Her thoughts turned to Duncan, and she let out a sigh. She was still angry at him for lying, but deep down, she was also sad by the way things had ended between them. He may not have been the sort of man she would have married, but Duncan had been her friend for a long time, and he had braved the dangers of the wilderness to bring her and Alice to the fort. Cora then thought of her father and dreaded the moment when she'd have to explain why she'd refused such an advantageous marriage. How would he cope with the knowledge that she refused Duncan because she'd developed feelings for a half-native, Englishman?

Cora shut her eyes and allowed the familiar wave of longing and hopelessness to wash over her. She was used to carrying the weight of this feeling around but had not felt it so acutely since she'd arrived in America. Back in England, it would sometimes catch hold of her, and she would spend countless hours by the parlor window, staring outside, daydreaming of a different life. Part of those dreams had come true, but what Cora realized was that she would not be satisfied if Nathaniel was not by her side. In a way, he had become the embodiment of the life she wanted to lead. A life of freedom and adventure. And the only things that were holding her back were fear and uncertainty.

Suddenly, Cora decided she was done waiting around for things to happen. She rose from her seat with firm determination and removed her work apron, hanging it from a peg on the wall. Most of the aids were supping or resting in one of the cots near the entrance of the building. Therefore, no one noticed as the young woman quietly opened the back door and slipped like a shadow into the night.

* * *

The courtyard teemed with life as Nathaniel moved slowly through the crowd. He walked with the grace of a stag wandering through the woods, and many a woman's attention was drawn to him. However, he took no notice of the stares. He moved among the groups of people sitting on the floor or dancing about the campfires. His keen eyes avidly searching each face that happened to cross his path before moving on to the next one.

Nathaniel stopped near the center of the open space turning this way and that when his scalp prickled. Had he been hunting in the woods, this would have been a warning that he was being watched. But, surrounded as he was by so many people, it was difficult for him to pinpoint where this sensation came from.

He scanned the entirety of the courtyard with practiced ease and started when he noticed Cora standing but a few yards away from him. It was she who was watching him with intense, burning eyes that took his breath away.

The young woman waited for him to come closer but did not say anything when he stood only inches away. Nathaniel could feel her breath on his face, and he noticed a tremor run through her as the tension between them became almost unbearable. With a slight motion, he reached out to take her hand and was pleased to find it ready to receive him.

The couple walked away from the cheery light of the bonfires, melting away into the dark fringes of the buildings that surrounded the open area. Unseen, they climbed up a wooden staircase to a tiny room that served as a guardhouse. Nathaniel had taken the watch over the north side of the wall, the one facing Lake George, and knew no one would be there to bother them.

Cora watched him remove his weapons and lean his rifle in a corner before turning to face her. She had never done anything of the kind, and her inexperience frightened and unnerved her. Nathaniel crossed the distance between them, making her heart speed up in such a way that she felt lightheaded. He let his fingers trail over her cheeks and down to her shoulders, uncertain of how to proceed himself. There before him was a woman as foreign and alluring as any uncharted territory he had ever traveled. From the start, he'd been taken in by her beauty. But, what had truly conquered his heart was her strength and passion of her character.

His warm caresses slowly eased her nerves, and Cora finally found the courage to lift her face to Nathaniel. Reaching behind her, he loosened the ties that held her hair up and allowed it to fall over her shoulders, releasing a cascade of her scent. He ran his fingers through it, feeling the softness of the tresses as though assessing the texture of fine cloth. He then leaned down and pressed his lips against the curve of her neck, trailing upward, until he reached her lips.

This was not the first kiss Cora received, but the fiery passion with which Nathaniel bestowed his love awakened her desire and heightened her senses. She could taste him strong and pure, and images flashed in her mind: wind rushing through the forest, an eagle soaring high above a mountain, a waterfall glistening under the moonlight. She inhaled deeply and the scent of wood and greenery invaded her nostrils. Her fingers sought to explore every part of him, as if they and not her eyes, could memorize him and keep the imprint of his image.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and pressed his lips against her soft skin, nibbling every so often and drawing sigh after sigh from Cora. His arms wound around her waist and lifted her so he could better reach her lips while she circled his neck, briefly drawing away to bestow her own sweet caresses. Cora wanted him, needed him with every fiber of her being, and grew more desperate to quell her thirst as their embrace prolonged.

Nathaniel could feel her need and he would by no means deny it. But, he did not wish to push her beyond the boundaries her society and upbringing had instilled in her. He pulled back, his chest rising and falling against her as if he'd just been running, and a question arose in his eyes. He did not want to break the silence that enveloped them, but he needed to know.

Cora's eyes glistened with a deep, burning fire, and she trembled in his arms, painfully aware of her unfulfilled desire. He opened his mouth to speak, but she pressed her long fingers against it. She was letting go of the demure, young lady she'd been to become a woman of the New World. She was unafraid of her future and willing to brave whatever fate brought to her. Still holding his gaze, Cora brushed the hair back from Nathaniel's temples and kissed him with heat, tightening her hold on him. She accepted.

Clothes were brushed aside and laces untied. Their bodies were revealed little by little so that in the end, there was nothing one could hide from the other. Cora buried her face in Nathaniel's shoulder and gripped him madly. Her hands raked through his hair and down his back as he melted with her, bringing her the sweetest pain she had ever experienced in her life.

* * *

Nathaniel awoke a couple of hours later. With care, he disentangled himself from Cora, who had fallen asleep with her head on his chest. He dressed quickly, as much to ward off the morning cold as to keep her essence with him, and glanced outside. The fort was in relative peace, and the campfires of the previous evening had burned down to a few glowing embers. The moon was nearing its fullness, and from its position in the sky, the young man saw it was only a little past midnight. Suddenly, his keen vision detected movement in the stairs below the guardhouse. He narrowed his eyes and saw Jack Winthrop's familiar face looking up at him. He made a motion with his hand, beckoning Nathaniel down, and the young man nodded.

Noiselessly, he took Killdeer and his powder horn and stopped on the threshold to look back at the sleeping woman. A look of love softened his features, and Nathaniel hoped his business with Jack would be finished soon so he could come back to her. It was not likely she would be missed during the night. But come morning, the Colonel, Alice, or Major Heyward could note her absence and suspect something.

* * *

The first cock had not crowed yet when Nathaniel returned. It had been more difficult than he had thought, but Jack and the other colonials had been able to make a clean run from the fort without making their presence known to either the English or the French. Quietly, he slipped under the blanket beside Cora without bothering to undress. She shivered slightly and shrugged closer to him with a soft sigh of contentment. Nathaniel enveloped her, caressing the smooth skin and marveling at the newly discovered mystery she was.

He had not had any expectations when he'd set out walking and had found her alone in the middle of the courtyard, as though waiting for him. When their eyes had met, he saw a look of passion flash through them, and he was irrevocably lost to her. "Whatever else happens, whatever the future may bring, Cora and I are as one."

* * *

The first light of day was beginning to peek over the horizon when Nathaniel stirred. There was plenty of time to get Cora back to the infirmary, but he did not want to push their luck. He shook her awake, putting his hand on her bare shoulder, which rose over the blanket. Cora groaned softly and drew closer to him, though she remained with her eyes closed.

"It's me," Nathaniel said, brushing his lips against the skin he'd just touched.

"Is something the matter?" She mumbled sleepily.

"It's near daybreak. We'll have to leave soon. They can't find us here."

Cora nodded. Had there been a choice, she would have preferred to stay with Nathaniel in that one small room overlooking the lake and forest, but she made an effort and sat up.

Nathaniel had taken the precaution of picking her clothes up and putting them on the only chair in the room when he'd returned. He fetched them for her and, with all due gentleness, helped her dress. It was a domestic scene, yet Cora did not feel self-conscious at all. She was a new woman, and he the man she'd chosen. There was no reason for awkwardness between them. Besides, this was just one more excuse to continue to feel his touch before parting.

No one was awake when the couple left the small guardhouse. Nathaniel led Cora through the back buildings to the infirmary, which was at the opposite end of the fort. When they reached the back door, Nathaniel pulled Cora up to him for one last kiss. The fiery urgency that had driven them together seemed to have run out, leaving behind a passionate heat.

"I'll come to find you during the day," he murmured in her ear.

Cora nodded, kissed his cheek in a sign of farewell, and crossed the dark threshold of the entrance. She turned back, gave him a glowing smile, which he returned, and then shut the door behind her.


	16. Chapter 16

Cora's happiness lasted less than a day.

Upon her return, the infirmary remained in the peaceful silence of slumber. She laid down on one of the empty cots for a couple more hours until she began hearing distinct sounds of activity. Men stirred and coughed, whispering amongst themselves, wondering whether they would have a good breakfast for once and not the same weak tea and hard biscuits they'd gotten the day before. When the other nurse arrived, she found Cora, pale and with dark shadows under her eyes, but already working in boiling bandages to disinfect them.

Around noon, a shadow appeared in the doorway, and the young woman's heart soared with excitement. She was about to call out to Nathaniel when the figure moved inside to reveal Uncas.

"Oh, good day, Uncas," she said, attempting to hide her disappointment behind a kind smile. "Can I do something for you?"

"Miss Cora, Nathaniel is in prison. Soldiers came early this morning and took him away."

The excitement she'd been feeling in heart crystallized and plummeted down to her stomach. "Why? How?"

"He helped the men who had families along the frontier border escape. After what happened to the Camerons, many were not willing to remain here, especially when the agreement made with General Webb was not honored."

The young woman was torn. She appreciated Uncas' discretion but could not help a surge of guilt at her father's unwillingness to let the colonials leave to protect their loved ones. Also, though her heart swelled with pride for Nathaniel, she knew as well as anyone that desertion or aiding others to it meant treason, and its punishment was death.

"It can't be!" She gasped. "Nathaniel is neither an officer nor an English subject. They cannot try him!"

"Not at the moment. The Colonel has the final decision, and he's been dealing with other matters."

Cora regained her composure. She still had time then, time enough to right this terrible wrong and save Nathaniel from an unfair trial. "Thank you, Uncas," she said with sincere gratitude. "It was right of Nathaniel to have sent you to me. I shall speak to my father directly."

An odd look crossed the young man's eyes, and he hesitated for a moment. "Nathaniel would never put you in a difficult position against the Colonel, Miss Cora. I came to tell you because I knew it would be in your interest to know."

"Oh!" Cora lowered her gaze, but her burning cheeks revealed the emotions she could not express. Did Uncas guess at her connection with Nathaniel? Did he know what had happened between his brother and her? "Is Chingachgook with him right now?"

"No, the guards would not allow us to see or even speak with him. But do not worry, I am sure he will be alright," he ended, lightly putting his hand on her shoulder in a brotherly gesture.

Cora looked up at the young native man and gave him a brief smile. "That is more difficult for me to do than I would care to admit," she said. "But I thank you for bringing me the news nonetheless."

* * *

"We're alive only because of him!"

"The man breathed mutiny in this room before my eyes! He is clearly guilty of sedition." George Munro stated.

"And did he run? Did he leave with the others, leaving no trace for you to find? No, he stayed behind to face the consequences of his actions!" Cora argued passionately.

The Colonel paced the floor behind his desk. "He committed a crime and should be tried and sentenced like any other man, regardless of what he did for my children."

"But he is not like any other man!"

The Colonel shook his head. Whatever his daughter's nature, the zeal with which she defended this Nathaniel Hawkeye, a complete stranger, went beyond any logical reasoning.

Duncan had been standing off to one side, smoldering with rage, and he took advantage of the pause to speak his mind. "If he knew what he was getting into, as you say he does, then he should not be sending you to beg. What a grand display of honor it is for a man to break the law and then run and hide behind a woman's skirt like a child!"

Cora was incensed. "You know he wouldn't do that! I came to defend him after you falsely spoke of what you saw." She returned her attention to the Colonel. "Father, I was at the destroyed cabin as well. I saw the corpses of those people. Not even the children were spared."

"That is not enough to outweigh the interests of the crown," the Colonel interrupted, avoiding eye contact with his daughter.

"Then what is?" She insisted. "What are you fighting for? What are you dying for, Father?"

The question shook George Munro. He was fighting for the glory of Britain, for the honor of his king. What were a few people to the expansion and maintenance of a great empire like their own? Yet even his iron-forged soul could not be entirely ignorant of the countless lives lost during the struggle. What was he fighting for? He'd once known the answer, but he was not certain of it anymore.

The Colonel's hesitation gave Cora hope. Her father was severe but not cruel, and he was one of the few military men she'd met who could be reasoned with. She stood still, almost without breathing, as she watched her father ruminate.

But Duncan was not about to allow Nathaniel the satisfaction of a victory. The young officer was consumed by jealousy at Cora's rushing to defend Nathaniel, and her refusal to marry him still burned in his heart.

"We fight for England," he answered, raising his voice in anger. "Something these colonials have no notion of, empowered as they are by their drunken dream of freedom. They go about doing as they please, ignoring British rule and living their lives without so much as a by your leave."

"They do not live their lives by your leave!" Cora interrupted him furiously. "They hack it out of the wilderness with their own two hands, burying their children along the way!"

"You are defending him because you've become infatuated with him!" The accusation slipped from Duncan's lips, and in a moment, he realized his mistake. Colonel Munro's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he looked at his daughter for confirmation.

Cora was livid, but when she next spoke, her tone had an icy edge to it. "You are a man with a few admirable qualities, Duncan. But if you accuse me of being subjective when it was you who brought this about by speaking only falsehoods, then I was wrong to have thought so highly of you."

"Cora!" She shuddered at her father's reprimand but continued to hold Duncan's gaze, challenging him, daring him to deny her words. The struggle lasted a few moments, but it was he who looked away first.

"My orders remain as they are. The man will remain in prison until the justice of the law tries him. That is my final word!"

"Justice?" She scoffed. "If this is what you call justice, then the sooner France wins the war and blows the English back across the sea, the sooner there will be true peace and justice in the land."

The Colonel stared at her, aghast. He did not recognize his daughter in the woman before him. "You don't know what you are saying! Many have been hanged for less!" he cried out.

"Yes, I do. I know exactly what I am saying, and if it is sedition, then I am guilty of sedition too!"

Cora ran from the building and crossed the fort grounds, barely managing to contain the rage that coursed through her. She'd never dared to challenge her father, especially when it came to military matters. But her sense of justice and the love she had for Nathaniel had given her the courage to confront him.

She arrived breathless at the entrance of the prison and, in a commanding tone demanded to be let in. The guards did not think of questioning her, knowing well that any request made by Cora would be backed by Colonel Munro.

The young woman stepped into the dark, gloomy building. It smelled of sawdust and gunpowder, and the odd combination tickled at her nose. She walked by the cells, peering into each one, but all were empty except for the one farthest from them.

Nathaniel looked calm, as though he was there for a visit and not under penalty of death. He was sitting on the floor, his head leaned back against the wall, revealing the straight line of his neck and throat. Cora could not help the knot that formed in her throat at this sight. It felt as though some wonderful bird had been caught and stuffed in a cage with its wings clipped.

"Nathaniel", she called out.

He opened his eyes, and the next moment, he was putting his hands through the bars, reaching out for her.

"What are you doing here?" He murmured, not without some surprise.

"Uncas came to me. They're going to hang you," she whispered shakily, caressing his face and his hair.

The ire that had taken hold of her at the headquarters had died away and now silent tears fell from her eyes. She was afraid for Nathaniel and she was afraid for herself. What was she to do after she lost that which had taken her so long to find?

"Why didn't you run away when you had the chance?"

Nathaniel's face softened and his lips broke into a smile. "Because what I'm interested in is right here."

He drew her as near to him as was possible, their faces pressed together, breaths mingling and cheeks touching. Even with the cold, iron bars between them, Cora sought his lips and found them waiting for her. She kissed him desperately and let him do the same for this could be the last time they would be together.

Suddenly a shell hit the side of the fort and shook the foundations of the prison, making the collected dust crumble and fall from the ceiling. Cora let out a small cry and covered her face at the same time Nathaniel put his arms above her head to protect her from any falling debris. They could hear panicked cries coming from outside and the immediate response of gunfire. It seemed, their brief moment of peace had come to an end.

"We won't last another day in here", Cora murmured with the certainty of one who has lived through many battles. "What will happen to us then?"

"When the fort falls to the French, stay close to your father and watch over Alice. If peace is struck, perhaps all will be allowed to leave."

She shook her head in protest. "I'll stay with you."

"No, do as I say," he interrupted. "We don't know what's in store for us yet."

Instead of arguing, Cora embraced Nathaniel. "The whole world's on fire, isn't it?"


	17. Chapter 17

Nathaniel and Cora were mercifully left alone all night. Cora found several blankets and made a small bed for herself beside Nathaniel's cell, attempting to get some sleep. The renewed attack on the French troops carried on well into the early hours of the morning, keeping Fort William Henry's resident in a constant state of tension.

The sun had risen already when the sound of drums and bugles cut through the air. Nathaniel, who'd been awake for the better part of an hour, sprang to his feet and climbed the lone bench that served as a bedstead to look out the window of his cell.

"Nathaniel?" Cora asked softly. "Has something happened?"

He watched a few more moments. His cell had a partial view of the courtyard and main entrance of the fort and the young man could see the officers gathering together.

"They're going out."

"Who?"

"Your father, the Major and a couple more of the high-ranking officers. I think they are calling for a truce." He jumped down from the bench. "You must go now. Find Alice and remember what I said."

Cora's brow furrowed and she bit her lip with concern. "Don't worry, I'll be right behind you," he murmured, giving her a brief kiss.

They gazed for a moment longer into each other's eyes, their hunger and desire so clear and vivid, that it might have seemed as though they were the last man and woman left on Earth. Then Cora went to the door and asked the guard outside to be let out. She felt Nathaniel's burning eyes upon her, but she did not look back, unable to trust herself of leaving him behind. The bolts clanged and the harsh light of the outer world outlined her figure before swallowing her whole and returning him to the dimness of his cell.

* * *

When Cora exited the prison, the sight that waited for her was one of loss and devastation. Most of the people had gathered at the front of the fort, peering over the fallen walls or watching from the top of the bastion. The air was charged with tension as the commanders of the opposing armies met and negotiated the terms for the surrendering of the fort.

She hurried across the courtyard and arrived at her room without meeting anyone. She sighed with relief and went to open the door, but found that it was locked from the inside. Puzzled, Cora rapped on it and could hear some whispering inside.

"Alice?" she asked out loud, knocking again with more strength. "Alice, it's me! Please, open."

A few seconds passed and suddenly the door opened revealing not her sister, but Uncas. Cora started, her eyes widening with surprise, but the young man was unfazed. He looked directly at her and stepped sideways to allow her in.

"Just as I promised, your sister is back, Alice."

Cora slowly crossed the threshold and found her sister sitting on a chair, trying to look calm and nonchalant. "Yes. Thank you, Uncas."

"She was looking for you yesterday, after you failed to appear in the infirmary," The young man said as a manner of explaining his presence. "I told her of Nathaniel's problem and said you might have gone to speak with him."

Somewhere in the back of her mind Cora's inner voice spoke to her about the impropriety of her sister being locked up in a room with a man, but when she spoke, she did it as lightly as was possible under the circumstances.

"I'm grateful for your kindness. From the prison window, we saw the officers exit the fort. Nathaniel said there'd probably be a truce and we would have to leave the fort."

Uncas nodded in confirmation. "The terms are being set, but my father and I believe we will be allowed to leave. I suggest you pack lightly: food, blankets, and jars for water; a pistol or knife if you can."

The sister's exchanged somewhat frightened glances.

"I thought the battle was finished," Alice said.

Uncas turned his warm eyes on her and he spoke in a softer tone. "We must always be prepared."

Once the young native had gone, the sisters were left in an awkward silence. Alice blushing profusely and Cora attempting to maintain a calm manner. There was much that needed to be discussed between the two, but the rules imposed on them by society prevented the young women from expressing those secrets closest to their hearts.

Alice would have dearly loved to ask her sister about the nature of her feelings for Uncas and how to act in such situations. She had no knowledge of how a courtship was carried out and, even if she'd known, it would have served her little as the Mohican culture was as different from the English as the day was different from the night.

Instead, each one went about briskly bringing the room to order and setting aside everything they thought they might need. Uncas' advice had been sound enough and, though Cora did not believe the French would break an agreed peace treaty, she distrusted them and their native allies. Thus, she pulled out two kitchen knives from a drawer where they kept their plates and silverware.

"Papa came looking for you," Alice said as she set aside some linen.

Cora hesitated for a brief moment and then continued with her preparations. "And?"

"He is sad. He says he does not recognize you anymore, Cora, and he is afraid you have become reckless."

The young woman whirled around in a swell of anger. "Me? Alice, you didn't hear them; Duncan lied about the people in the cabin! He and Papa have only England in their minds and they don't stop to consider that it is the true people that take on the brunt of the horrors of war! It was right I fight and defend them."

"He does not care about that, not truly. He is more concerned about the rift between Duncan and yourself and…" She stopped.

"And what?" Cora's eyes flashed with indignation.

"He wonders about Nathaniel," Alice whispered, lowering her eyes. "Whether he is the cause of all this and whether you've considered how he would affect your life later on."

The words left her cold. Cora had obviously thought about the future and what it held in store for her. But, if they made it out of the fort and the wilderness unscathed, what would happen then? Nathaniel had very well stayed behind for her, but how were they to cope with two such different cultures. Would he adopt hers and return to the civilization to which he belonged? Or would she leave everything she had known behind and start a new with him as her husband?

"What did you say?"

"I answered only what I knew: that you were not too keen on marrying Duncan from the start and that I had not seen any affectionate exchange between Nathaniel and yourself."

Cora had been holding her breath while her sister spoke and now she exhaled slowly. There was no way to know how much Alice had seen and how much she guessed, but she was grateful for her considerate answer.

"Thank you, Alice, for holding up for me with Papa. I guess I should have told you what I was going through, but everything's been so confusing as of late..."

"Then, it is true?" Alice interrupted. "You denied Duncan because of Nathaniel?"

"Not exactly... That is…" Cora let out an exasperated sigh and arranged her thoughts before speaking.

"I did not refuse Duncan because of my feelings for Nathaniel. I refused him on account of his actions. He lied about what had happened at Cameron's cabin because he was jealous—perhaps rightfully so—but it was a falsehood nonetheless, and it made me afraid."

"Of what?"

Cora looked down at her shaking hands. "It made me afraid that for all the promises of happiness and sweetness Duncan made, I would have to stand that behavior once wedded and without a voice of my own. And yes, I love Nathaniel and I cannot imagine any other life where he is not in it."

The door slammed open at that exact moment and both sisters let out a frightened cry.

"Cora!" It was the Colonel looking tired, but at the same time relieved. "Where've you been, girl?" He asked, more worried than angry.

"I was in the cells, Papa," she said softly.

"In the cells?! Why?"

Cora met her father's eyes and held them. Despite her open confession to Alice, she did not yet feel brave enough to do so with him. Nevertheless, the way her eyes shone, strong and pleading at the same time, gave the Colonel a hint as to what she'd been doing there.

He sighed. "Nevermind. I'm just glad to see you're all right."

Cora offered him a small smile. If her father was willing to stall that particular conversation, then she would do so too.

"What has happened?" Alice asked. "Are we to continue fighting the French?"

"No, I've surrendered the fort to Montcalm," George Munro replied in a weary tone. "We leave tomorrow at dawn. I came to tell you to pack up, but I see you already have a head start."

The sisters glanced down at the assortment of supplies laid out on the table. "We saw you meet with General Montcalm on the field," Cora said. "We guessed as much."

"Aye," the old man said with a grim look on his face.

"Where are going to go?" Alice asked.

"Back to Albany. I will no longer risk my life or that of others to cover up a man's cowardice and folly."


	18. Chapter 18

A red sun rose the following morning, tingeing the clouds in red and orange hues. The fort soon rose to act as preparations to abandon it were made. General Montcalm had been surprisingly lenient in his negotiations with Colonel Munro and had not taken any prisoners. Instead, he'd allowed the British army to leave with their heads held high and asked that the colonial militia be disbanded and the men returned to their homes and families.

George Munro had swallowed down his pride and accepted the terms with grim disposition. General Webb's reluctance to send reinforcements had cost him the outpost he'd fervently defended against the French for nearly a fortnight and the old man was now faced with the greatest defeat of his career. Yet his pride could not outweigh the lives of the men and women under his charge, and so he chose failure over death.

Cora and Alice could see their breath crystallize in the blue, morning light as they waited for their father to finish giving instructions to his men. The colonials and the others that were not part of the army, hustled to and fro, loading into crates and then into carts as many supplies as was possible. They might have been defeated, but that did not mean they were ready to give further advantages to the French. Of the wounded and ill, those who could not rise were also placed into carts, the bottoms covered in straw to cushion them, while others were placed in stretchers manned by those with minor lesions.

The young women might have had to make the trek back had not the Colonel procured a horse for them. Mr. Phelps had brought it along earlier and both were surprised by its enormous size. It was a large draft horse, so tall that Cora could not find a way to climb unto the stirrups in a ladylike manner. The animal was skittish and it moved forward and backward every time she attempted to get a foothold on the saddle.

As she struggled to get a foothold, someone came up behind them.

"Careful, Miss Cora!"

For a moment, Cora thought it was Nathaniel for the voice that spoke to her was soft and deep, and she nearly fell to the ground as she released the saddle horn. A hand caught her just in time and when she lifted her eyes she saw Uncas and behind him, Chingachgook.

"Oh, Cora, are you hurt?" Alice said, appearing at her elbow.

"No, I only slipped because the horse keeps moving around," Cora answered, straightening and drawing away from the young native.

"She's alright, Miss, but maybe we can lend you a hand," Chingachgook said in a low voice that denoted just how weary he was.

"Thank you."

Chingachgook went to the horse's head, taking the bridle and speaking softly in Mohican to it. The language sounded completely foreign to the young women, yet the horse reacted favorably to it, flicking its ears at the sound and calming down.

At a signal from the old man, Uncas went up to Alice. Without warning, he took hold of her waist and plucked her from the ground to place her on the saddle, doing the same for Cora. Neither of the sisters had time to react and they both looked thoroughly shaken at the familiarity with which he had approached them.

Once they had rearranged themselves in a more or less proper manner, Alice turned to the men. "Will you be going to Albany with us?"

"We must," Chingachgook answered. "My son needs the company."

Cora blanched at this and then caught a hint of mirth in the old man's wrinkled eyes. Chingachgook was, of course, joking and she gave a small, awkward laugh, amazed at the way he handled Nathaniel's predicament with calm.

"We will be glad to have you with us then, won't we Alice?"

"Of course," she murmured, though her eyes never left Uncas'.

Cora saw the exchange and was shocked to recognize in them the same hungry, despairing look Nathaniel had worn when he met her in the middle of the courtyard not two nights ago.

Chingachgook, who's eyes missed little in the world, detected it almost instantly and he then spoke a single, sharp word which made his son start. Uncas looked guiltily towards his father and hastily bid the sisters farewell as they both melted back into the crowd.

Cora remained in silence, analyzing the scene that had just happened. It was clear to her there was something more than interest between Uncas and her sister, and it dawned on her that maybe his attention with her was not for Nathaniel's sake, but for Alice. Yet, Chingachgook had not seemed pleased at all. Did he not approve of Alice? Would he approve of her and Nathaniel if he knew?

She tried to recall a moment when the two might have had a long exchange, but other than the climb down to the lake, Alice had very much kept beside Duncan and herself.

"Except for that night in the glade," a voice suddenly whispered in her mind.

A worried crease appeared on the young woman's brow as she bit her lip, knowing things had just become far more complicated than she had expected.

Drums suddenly began beating a somber march, calling the mass of people to attention. Slowly, the officers, soldiers, colonials, and the men, women, and children who'd fought bravely to defend the outpost gathered at the large wooden gates. Fort William Henry was ready to be left at the mercy of its conquerors.

Most of the British officers held their heads up proudly, but Cora also noted there were many others who'd spent night and day fighting off the French advancement that seemed downtrodden. They shuffled their feet and carried their belongings in a haphazard manner that showed just how low their spirits were.

She led their horse as best she could through the throngs of people, parting them like a rock in the middle of a stream, and she wondered what would happen next for them. The surviving soldiers would naturally return to England; she was sure they'd had enough fighting to last them a lifetime. But, what about the colonials? The militia was already disbanded and they'd been ordered to return home. Would they find their home still standing, their families eagerly awaiting their return? And the native allies, what would happen to them? Much like Chingachgook and his sons, they'd been involved in a fight not their own, but would be left for them? It would certainly not help them regain their lands, but maybe an agreement could be reached.

Far ahead of the column, Cora could just distinguish her father sitting stiffly on the saddle. As he went by the place where General Montcalm, Colonel Munro removed his tricorn hat, giving him a respectful salute and the young woman's heart went out to him. This had to be the hardest defeat her father had had to overcome and yet he had handled it with the dignity of a man of his stature. Her heart swelled with pride and she made up her mind to speak to him as soon as they were in Albany. She would apologize for her outburst and confess her feelings for Nathaniel and their relationship would be mended.

Behind Cora, Alice peered behind her from time to time, hoping to catch sight of Uncas, but it proved impossible; the line behind her extended all the way up the hill and into the fort. She turned to the front and let her gaze rest over the faces of the French soldiers that ogled at them, exchanging smirks and whispering amongst themselves. She could guess what they were saying, but she did not care for it. Her father and the rest of the soldiers had done everything in their power to defend their territory, and admitting defeat was just as honorable as winning a battle, perhaps even more so. She hid her face behind the curtain of her hair and was comforted when a braid brushed against her cheek. It was a reminder that somewhere, not far behind her, Uncas was keeping watch over her.


	19. Chapter 19

It was noontime and the survivors of Fort William Henry had not had a moment's rest since they'd abandoned the post at the break of dawn. Colonel Munro had decided to shorten the journey as much as he could, wary of heading into wild country with enemies both ahead and behind him. It wasn't that he did not trust Montcalm, but his experience had taught him that the only good enemy was a dead one; and while the French would honor the agreement, he was not so certain about the natives that had aided them. Therefore, he gave the order that few rest stops would be made and they would make camp only until night fell.

Riding behind him, Duncan bore a sullen face. He was indignant not only at the grim defeat but also at General Webb's cowardice. How a man that displayed such selfish motives could have climbed up the ranks of the British military was beyond him, but there was little he could do. Webb had been a soldier longer than Duncan had been alive, and because of his rank, he was set above most, making it difficult for anyone to place any blame on him. Nevertheless, the young officer made up his mind to speak to Colonel Munro as soon as they got to Albany and have him report that General Webb's unwillingness to provide them with aid had been a decisive factor in the loss of the outpost.

The thought of the end of their journey also brought back the bitter reminder of Cora's refusal and Duncan's jaw tightened and he clenched his hands on the reigns. He had loved her for so long that he could not recall a time when she wasn't in his thoughts, which was why he could not fathom why she would choose a wild man whom she'd met but a week before. What could Nathaniel have that he did not? Maybe Alice could explain.

"Yes," he said to himself. "I'll speak with Alice, maybe she can bring her sister around."

* * *

An hour later the travelers entered a long, winding valley, covered in tall, verdant grass and flanked by enormous trees that invited the weary to rest beneath their shade. In appearance, it was a peaceful place, but both Cora and Alice felt there was something amiss. Despite the noise of marching feet, the nickering of horses, the groaning and creaking of carts, and the low hubbub of people talking, there was no other sound to be heard but that of the wind rustling the trees. The crickets and other insects seemed to have stopped their singing as though waiting for a storm to break, and no bird calls could be heard in the area about them.

Alice turned her head from side to side, forcing her eyes to peer through the thick foliage and Cora nervously clutched the reins. Should she go and tell her father? She did not want to cause alarm, especially when those who walked beside them did not notice anything was wrong, but the tension in the air was thick and palpable, just like it had been when they'd been attacked on the George Road.

"Cora?" Her sister whispered. "I think there's something moving in the trees."

No sooner had Alice spoken those words when a blood-curdling wail resonated in the valley. The sisters whipped around just in time to see a brown blur emerge from the tall grass and bear down upon a group of soldiers not too far from where they stood. There was a moment of deep silence and then chaos broke as the British realized they'd walked straight into an ambush.

The screaming of men and women overlapped with the explosions of guns and the wild cries of the natives as they washed down from the sides of the valley and engulfed the column of travelers. The soldiers who were able to recover from the surprise of the first attack attempted to get into battle formations, but their actions were too slow and they were easily onslaught by the Indians who ran through their lines, hacking and stabbing at whatever target presented itself.

The horse the Munro sisters had been riding reared and bucked in fright. Although Cora tried to it under control, Alice hindered her movements as she held on to her waist and screamed something incoherent.

"Alice, get down! Now!"

The young woman slid from the saddle nearly toppling to the ground, while her sister did the same. Sensing the weight on its back lift, the horse bucked violently once again and dashed off into the fog created by the smoking guns. Alice and Cora ran with their heads down for the protection of the nearest tree and from there watched the battle unfold before their eyes. Once again, the British troops were no match for the ferocity and reckless courage of the native warriors. Alice held back her sobs by pushing her fists against her mouth as Cora protected her with her body and watched for signs of Nathaniel or her father.

* * *

No sooner had the fighting begun that George Munro drew his sword and gave orders to his officers.

"Ambush! We're under attack! Get to your regiments and fight, men!" He screamed, spurring his horse and heading to the back of the line.

"Wait, sir!" Duncan called to him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find my daughters!"

He rode like a madman through the boiling crowd, cutting down anyone who came within reach of his sword as he frantically tried to find Cora and Alice. Surely they had not been too far behind? They had not been near the place where the attack began, but there were so many people running around wildly that he couldn't be sure any longer. Somewhere in the back of his mind, George Munro knew this was the battle he had been waiting for all his life; the one that would claim his life, but he intended to get his children to safety before death came to claim him.

Way back, at the end of the column, Chingachgook, Uncas, and Nathaniel had also been wary when they'd entered the valley and thus were not surprised at the onslaught that came but moments later. When the shooting began, the soldier who'd been charged with watching the prisoners panicked and ran off, allowing Uncas to easily cut his brother free.

Nathaniel shook the ropes from his wrists, taking back Killdeer and his belongings before setting off at a run to the center of the valley, followed close by his father and brother.

"We need to find them!" he called out as he began running.

The three men wove in and out among the dead bodies, most of which were soldiers or colonials who'd been taken unawares, and Nathaniel silently cursed the blinding smoke created by the gunfire, moving with lightning speed up the broken line to find Cora and Alice. He had been too far back to see them properly but he guessed they were close to the place where the fighting had begun. Beside him, Uncas hurried too, searching everywhere for signs of Alice and fearing he would arrive too late.

A little ways ahead, Chingachgook saw Colonel Munro emerge from the fog at a gallop. His tricorn had been knocked off and the blade of his sword was smeared with blood, yet he too seemed to be seeking the sisters. He signaled to his sons, but before they could reach him a bullet struck down the horse.

As though in slow motion, the three men watched the officer fall and then, miraculously, struggle against the weight of the dead animal that pinned him to the ground. However, the relief they might have felt was cut short when they saw a slinking figure approach the Colonel. It was the Huron captain who'd led the attack on the George Road and, in a moment of clarity, they understood that this too had been orchestrated by the treacherous man known as Magua. The native stood above the officer, speaking, before taking his knife and plunging the sharp edge into his chest. He then knelt down and from the corpse withdrew a bloody, red bulge that he raised high above his head before crying out his victory. Nathaniel swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat and it was all he could do to stop himself from rushing to the man and killing him with a single swipe of his blade. Magua had avenged himself on the Colonel and he was certain to go after the women next; therefore they needed to find Alice and Cora at once.

The men were already halfway through the clearing, close to the spot where Nathaniel had calculated the sisters to be, but he could not see them and began to fear the worst. Should they begin to look for the women in the trampled bodies at their feet? Or had they been taken as spoils of war? Just then, Uncas gave a short whoop, drawing his attention. Still running, he swung his head to the right. Nathaniel followed the line of sight with his eyes and, at last, caught a glimpse of them.

* * *

Alice watched the battle in speechless horror. Even in her darkest nightmares, she had never imagined anything close to the death and violence she was witnessing with her very eyes. It was as though the world had sunk into hell and the fighting figures had shed their human skins to reveal demons that fought with gnashing teeth and that let out horrid howls every time they claimed a life.

For her part, Cora knew they needed to get out of there fast before they caught the attention of the natives but she was too terrified to move. In her despair to get down from the spooked horse, she had forgotten about the knives she'd packed into the saddlebags and her mistake had left them completely unprotected.

Suddenly, a soldier who'd been riding through the crowd fell a few feet from their hiding place. He had been shot through the head by a stray bullet and his lifeless body lay face down on the ground. Cora's first impulse was to fetch his sword, but she would not have known how to wield it nor did she feel strong enough to do so. Then she noticed the shiny, metal end of a gun sticking out from underneath him.

"Stay put," she said to Alice, throwing herself on the bloodstained grass and crawled to the soldier. The gun was in a holster and there was also a small sack of bullets and a powder horn about half full. She reached out a trembling hand and wrenched the objects and turned back to where she'd left Alice when she felt her heart stop.

An Indian came up behind an unaware Alice and clutched her neck in his powerful hand. The young woman could not do anything but stare into the savage's eyes with a deadened expression on her face. The native, taken aback by her meek behavior, paused for a single moment, a look of puzzlement crossing his features. This small hesitation bought Cora the time she needed and, holding the gun by the barrel, she struck him in the back of the head. The blow, though she'd put all her strength into it, did nothing but make the Indian stagger, but he released Alice, who fell in a faint to the ground. Without warning, the native swung around and smacked Cora across the face.

Cora was dazed and blinded by the pain and did not understand what was happening until she felt someone yank her upright from her hair. She screamed in surprised pain and saw the glint of steel pass before her eyes before settling on the nape of her neck, ironically, on the very same spot where Nathaniel had kissed her but two days ago.

"This is it," she thought. "I am going to die."

* * *

But the men had seen enough. When Cora fell, Nathaniel cried out her name at the top of his lungs and flew over the grass and even Uncas, who bested him every time, could not quite catch up to him. He was only a few yards away from his goal when three Huron turned towards him to attack.

Nathaniel collided head-on with the one at the front of the column and felled him, slashing the backside of his legs with one swift motion. He cut down the second, who swung a tomahawk at his chest, and struggled with the third who had gone for his rifle before Nathaniel managed to stab him with his knife. He turned and saw Cora kneeling on the grass with a knife underneath her jaw. Their gazes met and her voice resonated in his mind, bidding him goodbye.

Nathaniel moved quick as lightning and let out a fearsome war cry. Once again, the Huron was distracted and he lifted his eyes just in time to see the sharp blade of the ax that moments later ended his life. The native fell to his knees and, before he could rise, Nathaniel knocked him to the ground; lifting his weapon over his head, he struck down with all his might. There was a sickening crunch of bone breaking and Nathaniel found a wave of relief wash over him.

His foe defeated, Nathaniel reassumed his peace for a moment. He whipped about and caught Cora's living, breathing body in his arms and felt a wave of relief wash over him.

She let out a dry sob and buried her face in his panting chest. "I thought I wouldn't see you again."

Nathaniel pressed her to him and kissed her forehead in a rough manner. "Never."

* * *

They had to leave the valley while the soldiers and warriors were still caught in the thick of the fight. Chingachgook made several hand signals to indicate their escape route and Nathaniel ran leading the women, not towards the woods but to the opposite side of the glade. Suddenly, Cora heard heavy footsteps following behind them and she was about to scream out when she caught sight of Uncas catching up with them with a small group of men, which included Duncan.

Confusion and panic had blinded Cora and she felt a small twinge of regret for not having spared a single moment's thought for his well-being. Nevertheless, she was glad to see him alive, if a little roughened up.

After Colonel Munro had left him in charge, he had ridden off to gather as many men as was possible to counterattack, but their forces were dwindled by the surprise attack. After chasing down several skirmishes and bringing them down, the young officer had clambered from his horse as he was unable to both fight and control the panicked beast. He had continued to defend his position with sword and pistol, but his men and strength were quickly diminished. Uncas had appeared out of nowhere and had helped him dispatch two Huron who'd been circling about him like wolves.

Soon, the group entered a thin cluster of trees and the last straggling sounds of the battle dissipated. The ground was covered with dry pine needles, creating a cushioned carpet that not only muffled their steps but also helped hide their tracks. Cora did not know if they were being followed or not, but the haste which Chingachgook pressed upon them made her believe they were not entirely out of danger.

Suddenly, the land fell away before them and Cora came to a hasty stop. They were on the high part of a steep bank, beside which a fast, swirling river ran. Nathaniel slid down and held his arms out to help her.

"Where are we going?" She asked though she was already placing her hands on his shoulders.

"We head for the river. We can get away faster and confuse them at the same time."

Once they were on the sandy shore, Cora saw a long line of canoes dragged unto the pebbled shore. They had been the means of transport for the natives who'd ambushed them and would now aid them in their escape.

Nathaniel went to the one closest to them, threw his weapons in, and then pushed it with ease towards the water. Uncas called something out to him and he answered in their native tongue.

Cora and Alice clambered inside, followed by Uncas, while Chingachgook, Duncan and several other soldiers pushed another canoe into the water. The vessel itself was large and it would require the power of at least two people to man it. The men picked up their paddles and pushed off the shore just as wild cries came from the bank above them.

"Look!" Alice exclaimed, pointing a finger at several shadows that followed them from above.

"Huron guards," Uncas answered with a grunt as he dipped his paddle into the water. "They can't hurt us at this range."

"Faster!" Nathaniel called out at the same time.

He had looked behind and seen the Huron rushing back to their canoes, giving chase. "If we can only get to the falls, then we will be safe."


	20. Chapter 20

Night fell mercifully bringing an end to that horrible day. The party that had escaped the massacre in the valley had paddled downriver for two hours until Chingachgook deemed it necessary for them to disembark. The river they'd followed ended in a series of falls, the last being Glens Falls, which had a drop of a considerable height.

They landed half a mile upriver from the edge, and Uncas and Nathaniel released the vessels into the current in an attempt to dissuade the Huron from continuing their chase. Meanwhile, Chingachgook considered their options. They could not make for the George Road as it would be surely watched; there were no settlements close by in which to seek shelter, and going on to Fort Edward would place them in danger once again. Uncas and Nathaniel could push themselves to the limits of their strength and the women, though unprepared, knew what to expect of a journey in the woods, but the old man was wary of the officers. They would want to head to Albany immediately, and with two wounded men slowing them down, they would not be able to travel as he wished. Thus the old Mohican made his decision.

He led the party towards the edge of the falls and down a rocky ledge where, hidden among the foliage, was the yawning mouth of a cave. The constant rush of water had weathered down the cliff wall until a large chamber was created underneath. It wasn't perfect, but it would provide them with a relatively safe space to rest and consider their strategy. Inside, the thick, rough walls somewhat muffled the sound of the water so that it became a low rumble that seemed to emerge from the very depths of the earth. They followed a winding tunnel that ended in a series of niches and crevices.

As they each found a suitable place to lie down, Cora approached Duncan. "These men," she began, "do they need aid?"

He gave her a look of surprise, as though he'd expected her to never speak another word to him again. "Thank you, they are not doing very well."

One of them, a boy close to Alice's age, had an ugly gash across his forehead. He was deathly pale after the loss of so much blood but remained conscious enough to inform Cora there were some bandages he'd brought along in his pack and which she could use. The other had taken a knife to the knee and the rough blade had cut straight to the bone. He grimaced in pain and even cried out once or twice as Cora cleaned his wound and then wrapped it as tightly as possible to stopper the bleeding.

Duncan watched her work with a mixture of pride, love, and sadness. He had mistakenly judged her by the standards of society, caring only that she was a beautiful, accomplished woman of good breeding, yet only now he was realizing just how valuable she was. Cora was kind, just, brave, and selfless; the sort of woman who could weather anything on her own, and he had lost his chance with her.

"They'll be fine for now, though there is not much I can do without proper tools," she announced, rising to her feet. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Duncan quickly rearranged his features to wipe the forlorn look he'd been wearing, but Cora had seen it and she felt the dread of guilt swarm within her.

"Duncan..."

"Thank you for your service," he interrupted. "I am sure they'll be able to rest now."

The dismissal was rude and sharp, but there was little Cora could do. She slipped back to where her sister had laid down and joined her to try and get some rest. She fell asleep almost instantly, but her dreams were tainted with images from the ambush.

In them, she saw the battle play over and over again, the outcome growing more gruesome. She saw Alice dead, trampled under the hooves of an enormous horse and Nathaniel laying face down with an arrow shaft sticking out of his back. But what frightened her the most was the sight of her father, his chest bloodied, his eyes staring vacantly at the sky.

"Cora, wake up!"

The young woman bolted upright with a low scream, gasping violently, her face covered in a cold sweat. A pair of hands caught her by the shoulders and she struggled against the grip until she heard Nathaniel speak.

"It's alright. It's me."

His presence soothed her a little, but fear hung over Cora like a storm cloud and despite her best efforts, she could not stop trembling. Beyond Nathaniel, she saw Alice and Uncas, both watching her with equal masks of concern.

"You were having a nightmare and I couldn't wake you up," her sister said, hugging herself. "You kept crying and calling out for Papa."

The icy hand of fear clutched Cora's heart as she recalled the last bits of her dream. She drew back from Nathaniel and stared fixedly into his eyes.

"My father... Did you see my father?" She asked in a terrified whisper.

"Come, you need some air," he said softly, helping her to her feet. He then turned to Uncas, giving him a significant look. "Stay with Alice, brother."

Taking her hand, Nathaniel led Cora to an outcropping close to the endless roar of the falls where they could not be overheard. There, the light from the moon shone through the curtain of water and he was able to distinguish her features a little better.

"I kept dreaming that everyone I loved was dead," was the first thing she said. "You, Alice and my father. You were all just... gone."

"Cora..." he began with uncertainty bleeding into his tone as he had no idea of how to break the terrible news to her.

Yet she seemed not to hear him. "I know he would have turned back at the first sign of trouble, yet we saw nothing of him during the attack. Did you see my father, Nathaniel? Did you?"

It killed him to break her hopes in this manner, but he could not allow Cora to harbor false hopes when there were none. "From a distance," he said as he took her in his arms.

Cora leaned against him and listened as he whispered a few, short sentences. Her expression did not change, but she shut her eyes and buried her face against his shoulder, suppressing her sobs as the biting wave of pain passed over her.

The man who'd taken upon himself the task of giving her and Alice all the love and attention they needed after their mother's death, who'd sacrificed his career and fortune to remain close to them; Colonel George Edmund Munro, her beloved father, was no more.

* * *

"I am so afraid, Uncas," Alice whispered as she leaned her head against the young man's shoulder. "What is going to happen to us?"

The couple had sat down in the place the sisters had been occupying and with the cover of darkness to their advantage, they were free to display their affection for each other.

Uncas nestled his cheek against the top of her head and sighed. "We wait for morning. If nothing happens, then we set out."

"To Albany?"

"No. It is certain the roads will be watched. We head for the Mohican Trail. My father's relatives winter in a settlement north from here; they'll shelter us there."

"Oh!" Alice exclaimed. She was a little put off by this as she had expected to return to civilization with the same haste they had left it, but at the same time, she felt a swoop of excitement at the prospect of seeing a real native settlement.

"But what about Papa?" she asked. "If he gets there first and doesn't find us, he'll be sick with worry!"

Uncas remained quiet. Nathaniel had asked him not to tell her about Colonel Munro's death until he had spoken with Cora first, but Uncas had argued against it.

"She's not as sensitive as you believe her to be and she has just as much right as Cora to know."

However, unable as they were to come to an agreement, they had turned to their father for counsel.

Chingachgook had not said much about his sons' growing attachment to the English women, but he was not pleased; not for Nathaniel and certainly not for Uncas. Though the sisters showed they could adapt to the circumstances, the old man was afraid they would turn the young men's minds and take them away from that which he was trying to salvage: his culture and heritage. And yet, Chingachgook's was a kindly nature and despite his reserves, he could not bring himself to abandon them to the law of the land.

"It will be a difficult moment and you cannot know what their reaction will be, but they have to know. Let Nathaniel speak with Cora first so that she may be prepared when her sister asks but, do not hide the truth from Alice."

"Uncas?" Alice pressed him.

He braced himself and pressed his hand to her cheek. "I don't know that many could have survived, love. We barely made it out ourselves."

"But the attack began behind us…"

Alice recalled the madness that had ensued during the attack; screams, gunfire, smoke, and blood. Who knew how many lives were lost in the chaos? She and Cora had nearly perished themselves.

"Papa is dead, then," she stated.

"I am so sorry."

There was only dense silence and for a moment Uncas began to despair. He had expected the young woman to break down crying, burying herself in his arms, or to have her pull at her hair in the madness of grief, yet this muted acceptance unsettled him more. He pushed her from him, wishing to see her face, wishing to know what was crossing her mind, but Alice resisted and instead drew him closer. Her mind accepted her father's passing and mourned it, but a sudden, fierce desire for life, for him had flared up inside of her.

Despite the unshed tears that clung to her lashes, she sought out Uncas' lips by mere touch and met them with her own. He was shocked at her behavior, yet could not very well turn her away. She needed him, needed this to get over the pain of loss, and if this was the way to of it, then he was going to love her as best he could. Therefore Uncas responded with equal passion to Alice's kisses and soon he found he was pulling her on top of him. One hand cupped the back of her neck to better reach the delicious sweetness of her lips, while the other pressed the small of her back, bringing her to him.

Alice sighed, giving way to her instincts, recalling another night, another moment, in which she and Uncas had been close like this. Closer still. Then he had loved her by the firelight, tenderly leading her, yet never pushing her farther than she'd wanted to go. She had felt embarrassed, guilty, yet full of curiosity. Now, her caresses were more purposeful, her kisses more passionate and her desire to lose herself acuter.

The cover of darkness as their ally, the young couple abandoned itself to its desire, aware of the uncertainty of their future, yet unwilling to let it rule their will to live.

* * *

It was some time before dawn when a chorus of howls cut through the sound of rushing water. Chingachgook had taken the watch before daybreak and he was already on his feet, weapons at the ready, when the other men gathered with him. Alice and Cora held each other, waiting in breathless silence.

"They are close by," Chingachgook said a few minutes later when the night returned to its former silence.

"Excuse me, but how do you know?" Duncan asked impertinently.

"A lot can be gathered by listening to the creatures that live in the land. The wolves were disturbed by someone in their territory, their call is a warning to stay away."

"In that case, we'll need to be ready. Have you any powder or ammunition?" Nathaniel asked the officer.

Duncan pursed his lips tightly. He had followed the men out of a sense of duty to Cora and Alice, but he regretted it now. He would have rather made a stand that allowed these men to lead them into a death trap with little hope of escape. Grudgingly, he checked the satchels he and the other soldiers had brought along. There was ammunition for two rifles at most and what little powder they had was damp from their incursion on the river and from the humidity caused by the waterfall.

"None that can be of use to us," he said, revealing his findings.

Suddenly, Alice gave a small cry and pointed somewhere beyond the cascade. Cora followed the invisible line and saw with paralyzing fright the dancing spots of light that flickered on the far side of the cliff, not far from the crevice where they'd entered into the cavern.

Seeing the dancing lights come closer, Chingachgook spoke softly to his two sons. Nathaniel answered back through gritted teeth and a small argument broke out among them in quick Mohican. Uncas stood outside the circle, watching them impassive, yet from time to time his eyes shifted to Alice.

After a few minutes in which Cora thought she heard Alice's and her name called out more than once, the old man motioned towards the falls and spoke firmly, but Nathaniel shook his head adamantly.

"Yes, go," Cora said in an urgent tone.

Nathaniel looked at her with wretchedness drawn on his features. "There's no powder. Nothing we can defend ourselves with. The Huron will kill us first and then take you as prisoners. But if we go, there is a chance there won't be a fight."

"What sort of bloody plan is this?!" Duncan exclaimed, enraged.

But Cora, stepping up, put her hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "You have already done more than enough for us. Save yourselves!"

Nathaniel did not budge and Cora, knowing their time was running short, turned to Chingachgook giving him a firm nod.

The old man's face did not change in expression, but he was surprised and pleased by the young woman's boldness. He called to his younger son and without waiting for him, he jumped from the ledge, leaving no trace he'd ever been there.

Uncas readied himself, but before he leapt, he took a long glance at Alice. There was no time to say anything, but there was also no need. She knew he loved her and their parting, though momentary, would not break the bond they'd made.

The lights had disappeared into the cave and they were but moments away from being discovered and still, Nathaniel could not bring himself to leave.

"If the worst should come and one of us should die, something of the other does too... "

"No!" He growled, grabbing Cora roughly by the arm. "You're strong. You submit. If they capture you, they will take you north. You stay alive, no matter what! I will find you. Whatever happens, however far I have to go… I will find you."

Unable to trust herself if she spoke, Cora only nodded and stepped back several paces, feeling the separation cut into her like a knife. Nathaniel watched her for a few moments longer with the same intensity as when he'd sought her out in the infirmary a lifetime ago, and then he took a running leap into the cold void.

The young woman saw his shadow become lost in the darkness of the churning waters below and she prayed he had survived the fall. She would have wished to peer over the edge of the outcropping, but at that moment Alice gave a small scream of fear.

She turned just in time to see two natives run their knives through the wounded soldiers' chests even as they struggled to rise to their feet. Duncan rushed at them but was easily overtaken by a third, large man who lunged at him, beating his face with a powerful punch. Seeing Duncan down on the ground, blood pouring from his lips, Cora rushed to protect Alice, though it was clear the natives had no true intent in hurting them.

A lean man stepped forward, detaching himself from the band of warriors, and Cora recognized him as Magua, the man who'd betrayed them on the George Road and her father's murderer. The leader looked fierce and unforgiving, his eyes glinting as he searched the cave for a sign of the three men who'd succeeded in thwarting him twice before.

Satisfied there was no one to jump out and attack, he turned his gaze on the sisters and gave a short, sharp order. Three of the men grabbed them roughly and bound their hands in tight, leather thongs.

Dawn was breaking above the mountain peaks as the group exited the cave under Glen's falls; Magua at the head, followed by his men and the three prisoners he'd successfully taken. Feeling happier than he had in a year, the native gave a commanding bark in Huron and then, setting the pace, led the column to the mountains in the north.


	21. Chapter 21

The band of Huron warriors and their English captives rounded the mountainside and after a long day's trek, finally arrived at a green valley, hidden from view from the ridges above. There, nestled in the meadow at its bottom, stood a Huron village. The hogans made of cut birch wood were set side by side in two rows, forming a long avenue down the center, leading to the end where a great pit had been dug out.

Dogs barked announcing their arrival and the whole village emptied their homes to watch them. Young men formed two lines beside the newcomers and whooped, raising their tomahawks in the air and jeering at the fright of the English. Women carried their babies wrapped up in skins and watched them in sullen silence, no doubt remembering some past battle against the colonists in which they'd lost a father, a husband, or a brother.

This was a hostile environment and Cora felt certain there would be no mercy to be found among these natives, who seemed so much more primitive than the Mohicans.

They stopped before the pit where a new pile of wood had been placed in preparation for the evening meal. Beyond it, sitting on top of a large pile of rocks, a weathered, old man wrapped in a gray blanket waited in silence. His face was lined with wrinkles and his features seemed carved of the same stone in which he sat. His grizzled, gray hair fell all the way to his elbows and his eyes were dark and cold, like bottomless pools. Before him, Magua stood straight and proud, his lips pulled back in a sneer, but the man was not impressed and he acknowledged him with a dignified nod, before they began speaking.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that all was coming to an end or the weariness of the long walk added to the stress caused by the battle of the day before, but suddenly Cora's legs buckled and she fell hard on her knees. Not once had her strength and courage waned during the ordeal, but fear had gotten the better of her and now she only waited for their fate to be decided.

Alice saw her sister go down but neither moved or said anything. Ever since their capture she'd retrated into herself, secretly waiting for Uncas, Nathaniel and Chingachgook to come and save them. Behind her, Duncan stood with his head up, his back straight and proud. He was afraid of what would come next and only hoped he was around long enough to protect the sisters until Nathaniel and the others caught up to them as he was certain they would.

Suddenly, there was a lull in the speech and Cora looked up in time to see the Magua staring down at her, eyes flashing in anger. She flinched as he came near her and grabbed the shoulder of her dress to pull her to her feet in a rough manner. No doubt her attitued was displeasing to him and embarrassing before the chief of the tribe, but she was beyond the point of caring.

At that moment, the whooping and hollering that had greeted them began once more, though it now had a more menacing edge to it. Cora exchanged puzzled glances with Alice and Duncan and turned to see what was upsetting the natives.

Despite the mass of people gathered before her, the young woman managed to glimpse the lone figure that'd just entered the Huron village and was walking up the avenue towards them. Nathaniel bore no gun or knife or even a satchel, only the clothes on his back and a belt of an intricate design made of white and black beads in his outstretched hand. Though she had never doubted he would track them down, relief mingled with dread now flooded Cora. Despite his Mohican upbringing, he was still Englishborn and if the Huron chose to, they could imprison him too.

Suddenly, a young warrior came up before Nathaniel and gave him a mighty shove. The young man reeled back, stepped to one side, and continued walking. A little farther ahead another man ran out to meet him with a bone knife drawn out. He tore open Nathaniel's shirt and grazed the skin on his chest with the sharp weapon. Cora did not fully understand what was happening, but she guessed he was trying to demonstrate he came to them in peace, and would not be deterred from his objective, facing the Huron's insults as long as they allowed him to speak before their chief.

The attacks grew rougher and the crowd louder in their indignation; even an old woman who'd been sitting outside one of the longhouses screamed insults at Nathaniel, making hand gestures whose meaning did not need to be translated.

Cora swallowed hard as Nathaniel approached; he was bleeding, not only from the cut on his chest, but also from a blow to the side of his head. He did not glance at the group, but walked past them to stand before the Huron chief, much like Magua had done.

The native's face redenned with rage at his arrival and he would have gladly stabbed him with his knife, had not Nathaniel spoken outloud before he had a chance to stop him.

"Translate every word in French for me, Major," he asked Duncan.

* * *

The exchanged laste but a few minutes, but to Cora and Alice it seemed like an eternity. Nathaniel asked them to be set free on account of Magua breaking the peace made with the French, but the Huron was wily and he argued, feeding with words the already blazing fire of anger.

It was then the old man spoke in a soft tone that denoted just how weary he was of these conflicts.

"White man came and with it the future of our people passed into the night, and the council still asks the same question since I was a boy: What are the Huron to do?

"Magua's victories show he is a great warrior, but his ways are not those of the Huron. He will take the light-haired woman so that his heart will heal and Munro's seed does not die out. The officer will be returned to the English, so their hatred does not burn brighter. The dark-haired woman will be sacrificed in honor of Magua's dead children. La Longue Carabine, go in peace."

The sentence fell upon the listeners like a blade and then a chorus of voices echoed from all around. Duncan and Nathaniel both yelled while Magua cursed at them and the chief. Alice was the only one who remained in silence as she watched several warriors drag a weeping Cora from her side.

"Me for her! I am La Longue Carabine!" Nathaniel yelled in despair. "My death is a great honor to the Huron, take me!"

The outburst angry voices did nothing to mute his cry, but another voice, strong and firm, spoke above the din. "Moi pour Cora! Moi pour elle!"

Cora did not register the words, merely stood, struggling against the hands that held her fast, knowing she was lost. Magua, his band of natives and the Huron villagers all turned back to the old chief in expectation.

Duncan and Nathaniel exchanged panicked glances as the chief regarded the tableau before him with his stony gaze

"Did you tell him, Major?"

Duncan swallowed the thick bile of fear that'd arisen in his throat. "Yes."

There was a tense moment of silence and then the old man spoke a single word. At this, Magua yelled violently at the chief and spit at his feet, while the Huron warriors cried out with glee at the sacrifice they had been given. Cora wept in terror and confusion as she was bodily thrust into a person. She looked up, ready to scream and saw it was Nathaniel, but he was barely aware of her. He bore a shocked expression as he called out to the group of natives that were dragging Duncan away.

"I said take me! Take me!"

"My compliments, sir. Take her and get out!"

"What are they doing to Duncan?" Cora screamed frantically.

The officer heard his name and managed to give her a brief glance of farewell, before he was lost from her view. And then Cora understood. Nathaniel had offered himself up in exchange for her, but the man who has the last word is the one who ultimately has the power, and Duncan had purposefully changed Nathaniel's translation: "Me for Cora! Me for her!" He had called out, sacrificing himself for her.

"Alice? Where are they taking Alice?" Cora screamed, losing all composure.

Nathaniel did not bother to calm her down, but rather allowed her to cry out her panic while forcing her to walk quickly to the edge of the tiny village.

* * *

Out on the mountainside, hidden by the dense foliage of the trees, Chingachgook and Uncas waited for Nathaniel to return. The old man had been against this plan all along, but there was little else they could do for the women and officer. All three had experienced the fierceness of the Huron before and they would have likely perished in an attempt to storm the village.

Suddenly a chorus of war cries and whoops echoed in the valley. Uncas climbed the lowest branches of a tree and from there strained to get a better look. He could see a group gathered around a pile of logs, a sacrifical pire, no doubt. A different group had detached itself from the mass of people, forming a long line that headed for the path which led away from the village. Among them, the young warrior caught sight of a pale figure with a beige skirt, bound in ropes and following the surly, lean figure of the Huron captain, Magua.

Relief, worry, and a stab of jealousy rushed through Uncas and he quickly scrambled down, rushing to get his weapons.

"What did you see?" His father asked.

"They've taken Alice; I am taking her back."

"Son, this has nothing to do with you," Chingachgook said with a pleading quality to his voice.

"You let Nathaniel go."

"Your brother's path is different than yours," the old man said. "His nature is akin to the English and he is compelled to act because of his feelings towards Cora."

"As am I, father." Uncas said, fixing his gaze upon him. "Alice and I are bound in the same way Nathaniel is to Cora and you were to my mother; we are a single being."

Chingachgook raised his brows in amazement of this admision. Watawah, his wife, was seldom mentioned, but the few times she was recalled, it was always done with great reverence. She had been the light of Chingachgook's life; a being who matched him perfectly in every way, and he had passed this awe on to both his sons, though they held but few memories of her.

Time and urgency pressed upon Uncas. "Father, I have to go," he declared without a tremor in his voice.

Chingachgook nodded, understanding he could not hold his son back, but there was a cold fear embedded in him, a fear that their luck which had long held, was soon to run out.

"Go, I'll wait for Nathaniel, and together we'll come after you."

Uncas smiled briefly, pressed his hand on his father's shoulder and ran up the steep incline, ready to do battle for the woman he loved.


	22. Chapter 22

Nathaniel and Cora cleared the boundary of the Huron village and instead of following the path by which she'd arrived, he led her into the woods. When they reached the rendezvous point, they were surprised to see only Chingachgook was waiting for them.

"Where's Uncas?" Nathaniel asked in puzzlement, looking around for his brother.

"He's gone after them."

Nathaniel blanched at this. He knew Uncas loved Alice; he had admitted as much, but it was madness to go alone after a band of fourteen strong warriors to rescue her.

"Where is the Major Heyward?" His father asked in turn.

Nathaniel glanced at Cora. "I couldn't make them release him."

Chingachgook then said something in Mohican to which he answered with a few, short sentences. The old man reflected on this and then handed Killdeer over to his son. Nathaniel looked down at the rifle, swallowing back the knot that had suddenly formed in his throat. He'd often aimed the weapon at both beasts and men who'd tried to kill him, but he had never turned it against someone he'd known. He met his father's gaze and gave a reluctant nod, then Chingachgook set off, following the trail Uncas had taken.

Cora watched hypnotized as Nathaniel poured gunpowder into his rifle, stuck in a square of silk and a slug. He lit it and brought it up to his shoulder.

"Close your eyes, Cora," he said.

They were still near enough to the village that they could hear the gleeful cries of the natives as Duncan was set ablaze on a burning pyre. He began screaming as the flames licked at his flesh, his ashen face contorting in pain. The sight was one that would haunt Cora to the end of her days, but she would not, could not look away.

"No. I owe Duncan my life," she said firmly. "The least I can do is bear with him his last moments on Earth."

Nathaniel took a deep breath and aimed at the officer's forehead. "Forgive me, brother," he murmured and then pulled the trigger.

The lone shot rang out and when the smoke cleared, Cora saw Duncan's now limp figure, his head resting down on one side. It was only when she had ascertained her friend would not be suffering anymore, that Cora began crying.

Nathaniel held her tightly, petting her long, disheveled hair. "It was the only way," he murmured.

"I know," she wept. "I understand but..." She choked on her own words.

It had been an act of mercy to end Duncan's life rather than let him die slowly, but the sorrow she felt was partly the loss of someone close to her with whom she'd shared many things, and partly the guilt at having been so harsh with him the last moments of peace they'd spent together.

"Come, we need to get Alice," he said after a long pause.

Cora nodded. Yes, Alice was still alive. She had to keep that thought present in her mind. Nathaniel kissed her as a way of reassuring her and turned to pick up his gear. Then, he took Cora's hand and led her further into the forest, towards the bare cliffs of a promontory, the only path towards the Land of the Canadas where the other Huron tribes lived.

* * *

Cora did her best to follow at the pace set by Nathaniel, but the exertion had taken a heavy toll on her. The rocky shelf they were climbing shone with a bloody hue in the early afternoon and it greatly contrasted with the blue of the sky and the dense forest below their feet. It was a breathtaking view, but neither one glanced at it as they followed the dangerous curves of the trail.

Up ahead, the road steepened dangerously and Cora could see the blue shape of Chingachgook, half climbing, half running in pursuit of his son. Farther up, she saw the long column of Huron, their bare torsos glistening coppery red in the sun, and a single spot of white amongst them: Alice.

They passed underneath an outcropping in the rock and reached the edge of a slope.

"Stay here," Nathaniel said.

"But..."

"I can't fight the Huron and protect you at the same time," he interrupted gently.

Cora would have argued, but one, long look at Nathaniel made her keep her peace. Though he had not slowed down for a single moment, she detected the telltale signs of weariness. Dark shadows had appeared under his eyes and from the way he was breathing, she saw the climb had cost him much more than it should have.

"Go," she urged him. "And please, be safe."

* * *

Meanwhile, the band of warriors reached the top of the path and were now turning their steps north. The trail that winded around the side of the mountain was a treacherous one, with large boulders, trees, and fallen logs blocking their way. Small cascades washed down continuously, wearing the rock smooth, making their footing quite dangerous. For this reason, the men had spread out in a long line with Magua and their captive at its center.

The Huron pushed and pulled Alice with little consideration for her person, and it struck her just how different Uncas and Nathaniel's treatment had been. They'd been reserved, but kind and polite with them and, even Chingachgook, who had somewhat awed her by his enigmatic presence, had often offered his help.

The thought of Uncas brought a sharp pain to her heart and Alice bit back fresh tears that pricked her eyes. He would come after her, of that she was certain, but even if he managed to get through, he would still have to fight Magua. She peered at the Huron from the corner of her eye and in an instant knew this fierce, savage man would not be willing to give her up so easily.

Suddenly, a chilling cry echoed off the mountain walls. The Huron stopped in their tracks to pinpoint the source of the sound when suddenly, Uncas jumped out from behind a crevice ahead of them. He brandished his rifle and smashed the nearest warrior's face with its back, immediately firing towards another who'd been taking aim at him.

Alice gasped loudly and started towards Uncas only to be yanked back violently by Magua. He fired a volley of words at her and clenched her wrist painfully, making their meaning quite evident. He handed her over to one of his men, gave a barking command and drew out his weapons in preparation for his encounter with Uncas. Alice's eyes widened in horror when she saw him slice the air with tomahawk and a knife, and she would have screamed for Uncas to save himself had he not reached them at that moment.

The young man stood before his opponent, his face a mask of determination, to which Magua answered with a cold, hard stare. He studied the young man: Uncas was clearly the taller, stronger man, but he was young and inexperienced. This might give him an advantage in close combat, but he was not about to underestimate him. He was, after all, one of the three who'd stopped his revenge from being complete.

Uncas attacked first. He swung his rifle at his enemy's head, but Magua avoided it with ease and wrenched it away, lifting his tomahawk for a deathly blow at the same time. However, the young man was ready for him and he reached for his own weapon just in time to block the attack. The blades locked against each other and Uncas attempted to push his opponent off-balance, but Magua had the higher ground and he bore down on him, drawing first blood.

A sharp hiss escaped from Uncas' lips as the knife cut through cloth and skin, but he persisted in seeking ways to strike his enemy. The Huron moved with incredible speed blocking his movements, until he managed to strike him once more, slicing his arm from wrist to elbow.

The young Mohican stepped back, panting from the exertion and wincing at the tiny shocks of pain that coursed through his body. He had believed that only determination and his love for Alice would be enough to defeat Magua, but the Huron had proved he could fight and fight well. "I cannot fail," he thought, gritting his teeth. "I cannot fail her."

He glanced up, searching for Alice and he found her watching him with an indescribable look on her face, one he had seen but once before.

* * *

When Alice shut the door, the room became quiet and dim, save for a few logs still glowing in the fireplace. Uncas was surprised and uncertain at her invitation, yet he waited patiently in the half-light as she approached him.

She stopped quite close, studying him intensely. He had never been the object of so much attention and it discomfited him, for the look Alice bore enveloped hundreds of changing emotions: curiosity, fear, desire, embarrassment, love.

After what seemed an eternity, the young woman reached out and touched him. She worked her way up from his rough, calloused hands to his wrists where beaten copper bracelets jingled slightly. Her long, thin fingers felt the sinews in his arms and hovered softly over long-healed scars from some skirmish or hunt. She reached his shoulders and her hands fluttered over to his neck, pausing to inspect a bauble at the end of a leather cord tied about it.

On an impulse, Uncas gently pressed both her hands over his heart. She did not draw back or even stir but concentrated on the warm touch that held her fast. His pulse beat with intensity against her skin and she could tell its rhythm matched her own agitated one.

Certain that she would not refuse him, Uncas dared to slide his arms around her waist. This time, however, he did not rush in to kiss her, but slowly brushed his lips against her neck, working his way up until he arrived at her mouth. Then, and only then, did he kiss her with abandon, enveloping her completely.

It was an embrace that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with love, for Uncas had thirsted for her since the moment he'd first seen her. The same sensations overpowered the young woman and she lost herself in a flurry of kisses, nibbling on his lower lip and delighting in hearing him grunt softly.

As one, they moved towards the bed and Uncas gently laid her back, resting his body on hers. He then buried his face in her neck, letting himself linger, teasing her with soft kisses just as she'd done him. Everything seemed to slow down even as their passion rose higher than ever and, while Uncas did not push her beyond the established conventions of her society, it was Alice herself who broke past them.

Little by little, she'd given way until she found she could no longer bear the mad anxiety that'd grown within her; she wanted him, she needed him. She undid the ties of his shirt and removed it over his head, reveling in the warm, bronze skin, becoming intimate with its feel and essence. Meanwhile, Uncas had slowly undone the tight laces of her gown and peeled away, layer by layer, until Alice at last, was revealed to him.

He caressed her with tenderness, sending shivers coursing through her spine and it occurred to Alice that she had never felt more alive. She took him by the shoulders, bringing her to him and as Uncas pressed himself against her, she gasped in surprise and then moaned as he delved into her. She gazed up at him, even as the sharp pain of womanhood shot through her, and Uncas thought how he would never forget that look for as long as he lived.

* * *

Pain cut through the blurry veil of the memory and the young native found himself once more at the top of a promontory, fighting to save the woman he loved, fighting to save his life.

Letting out a fierce growl, he launched himself against the Huron captain once more. The two men rolled over the slab of smooth rock and came perilously close to the edge of the cliff. They were a tangled mass of limbs and weapons, fighting and struggling to get the better of their opponent.

Alice watched the duel in agony, her eyes rimmed with tears. Where were Chingachgook and Nathaniel? Couldn't they see Uncas needed their help? As her thoughts rambled on, she struggled against the iron grip that held her in place. She knew she needed to get to Uncas, she had to help him out somehow and end this once and for all.

But then the fighting stopped suddenly.

Magua had managed to free himself from the young Mohican's grasp and stood, with his knife at the ready. Uncas, who'd noticed the absence, slowly rose to his feet. He was now bleeding profusely and his movements were sluggish, as though all his strength had abandoned him. He raised his tomahawk, aiming a blow at the Huron's neck, but he blocked it with his arm and without hesitation plunged his knife up to the hilt into Uncas' side.

No yell escaped him, only a wide-eyed gasp as the unimaginable pain entered his body and paralyzed it. Uncas was gazing up at the sky, his vision quickly blurring, his consciousness slipping from him like water in his hands, yet he managed to cling to his memories long enough to think of Alice.

"My love..." he thought and then a blinding, golden light enveloped him and he knew no more.

Alice's mind stalled and she could do nothing other than stare in dismay as Magua withdraw his knife from Uncas' side. He then gave the young man's body a shove and she watched as her beloved slipped over the rocks and tumbled down over the edge of the cliff.

* * *

From far away, the young native's falling body was nothing more than a long, shape, sharply contrasted against the blue of the sky, but Nathaniel had recognized it and he let out a terrible yell of despair.

"Uncas!"

Chingachgook had also witnessed the horrifying scene and he was imbued with fury as he rushed forward to meet the Huron line. He fought as though he were twenty years younger, for no force on Earth would prevent him from reaching his son's murderer.

Farther down, at the bottom of the path, Cora had heard Nathaniel's cry and the crack of gunfire as another skirmish broke out. Little puffs of smoke rose into the air as the blasts went off and more war cries echoed across the hills as the warriors were defeated one by one.

Cora was searching the path for signs of the men when suddenly all the blood drained from her face. High above them, close to the edge of the outcropping where Uncas had just been killed, stood a lone figure, outlined against the sky.

"Alice! Alice!" She cried out, but her sister was too far away to catch the sound of her desperate call.

* * *

After Uncas vanished from sight, Alice slipped from her captor's grasp and she moved towards the edge of the cliff. The natives did nothing to bring her back but merely watched with puzzlement as she slowly moved away from them and Magua himself studied her curiously. He could have never known there was something between Uncas and herself, but now as she gazed at them with an otherworldly light in her eyes, he felt a small measure of pity and compassion for her.

Slowly, he lowered his knife and with a grunt, he extended his hand out, still covered in Uncas' warm blood, and beckoned her to him.

Alice turned her eyes to the landscape. The mountains and hills ebbed and flowed like a lively, green ocean, becoming blurry mounds on the horizon. The wind blew through the trees with a shuddering sound, not unlike that of waves crashing on a shore, and it stirred the golden strands of her hair. She felt this the breeze caress her and remembered the braid Uncas had woven into it after they'd made love. She had asked him what it meant.

"To my people, it is a symbol of unity," he explained. "You and I are bonded, Alice, and this represents our union for as long as we both shall live."

With his words still echoing in her mind, the young woman gave the men one last look and then leaped into the void.

* * *

Cora's heart stopped when she saw Alice step off the ledge. She fell with such grace that one would have believed she had the ability to fly through the air like birds do; her arms were extended, reaching out to some unseen being and her dress flapping against the wind. She must have hung in the air for several moments and then she was lost in the forest that grew at the bottom of the abyss.

Cora fell down to her knees, staring at the vacant space her sister had occupied but moments before.

"No. No. I can't be true." She repeated over and over again. "Not Alice. Please, God! Not Alice!"

But there was little she could do to escape from the truth. Her timid and gentle sister, her companion of a thousand moments, her Alice, had jumped into the arms of death following in the steps of a young man whom she had met only days before, and who she had come to love in complete silence. An unearthly sound escaped from Cora's throat and then the whole world turned black.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long to update the last two chapters, but it's been a busy time for me, plus I sort of had writer's block for a while. So, without further ado, here are the closing chapters to this story. Happy readings!

When Cora next opened her eyes, she found herself lying before a roaring fire, covered with a woolen blanket. Above her, pine branches created a natural vault through which she could just distinguish the velvet darkness of the sky, pricked by hundreds of tiny lights. In all her life, she had never stopped to notice the beauty of a star-studded sky and it filled her with a sense of wonder.

"Alice would love this," she thought, and then remembered.

As one, all her memories burst in her mind and she let out a gasp as though someone had knocked the wind from her stomach. Her family and Duncan, the last link to her previous life, were all gone.

The reality of this brought on the same sense of abandonment she'd felt when her mother died. She perfectly remembered the empty space within her, yet even at the tender age of seven, she'd been able to rebuild her life to accommodate her loss; her father and Alice still remained, and her aunt Beatrice and Eugenie had become part of their small family circle

This time, however, her life had shattered, the pieces scattered to the winds and Cora was not certain she could ever put it back together again.

With great effort, the young woman sat up, her body aching in a hundred different places and her head swimming. When the dizziness subsided, she looked about for Nathaniel but instead found his father, sitting on a tree stump quite close to her. The flames flickered over his features, making him seem like an idol carved into the bark of a tree. He looked ancient yet ageless at the same time and there was a veil of sadness that deepened his air of dignity.

She meant to call to him, but as she opened her mouth a violent cough shook her.

"Don't try to get up, child," he said softly, setting down his pipe and getting to his feet to fetch a pair of wooden bowls he had at the ready.

He brought them back to her, "Drink first."

Like a small girl, Cora obeyed him, feeling the cool water splash on her raspy throat. She then took the other bowl and began eating with enthusiasm. Warmth spread through her limbs as she ate and she gave the man a grateful look.

"Where is Nathaniel?" she asked once. "If it hadn't been for Alice and me, Uncas might still be alive."

"Such is the way of the world, but you shouldn't have any regrets."

Cora reflected on this, then ventured another question "Did you approve of her?"

Silence followed this statement and only the crackling of the logs on the fire interrupted it until the Mohican spoke again.

"Alice Munro was unlike any woman my son had met. She captivated and enthralled him, opening his eyes to the possibility of new things. She was not what I might have wished, but Uncas was master of his life and he chose his own path.

"My only worry..." He stopped and breathed deeply. "My only worry was for the loss of our way of life. There is much change happening in our world and we were the last of our tribe. I feared Uncas would be caught up and he would leave everything behind to embrace this new world, but I know now my fears were unfounded."

Cora started at this and Chingachgook offered the semblance of a smile. "Alice loved my son until the very end and for that, I am grateful, as I am for the love you bear Nathaniel." He put a warm hand on her shoulder, gave a small squeeze and then rose to his feet.

This statement both surprised and comforted Cora. There certainly had been something between Uncas and her sister from the start, but...was it possible for them to have fallen in love? Alice had always seemed so innocent and naive that Cora had considered her too young to develop such passionate feelings. She had enchanted many a young man in both England and Boston but had never shown any sign of true love for any of them. And yet, she'd somehow been drawn to Uncas, and theirs had been a bond so strong that neither could have survived without the other.

As she mulled this over, Nathaniel walked over to her. He moved slowly, as though his entire body ached from a need to rest, and his face bore the same, deep sorrow she'd seen in Chingachgook's features.

"You are awake," he said softly, sinking to his feet. "Have you eaten yet?"

She nodded. "Your father was kind enough to offer me some sort of...porridge?"

His lips pulled back slightly in amusement. "Corn mush. It's nourishing, even though it lacks flavor."

He sat down beside her, his exhaustion evident in the soft groan he made.

"Where were you?" She asked, leaning on his shoulder and finding the steady beating of his heart as comforting a sound as any. "What happened in...in the mountain?"

There was a long silence. Cora did not know if Nathaniel was going to answer her, but she was willing to wait him out patiently. They both had lost their sibling, their other half; they needed to talk about it if there was to be any closure.

"We could not save them. We saw Uncas and then Alice fall, and my father and I fought our way up the Huron line. The captain was waiting for us, but only my father faced him. It was not a long fight and we left his body on the mountain." Nathaniel said without bothering to hide the bitterness in his tone. "Afterwards, we tried to get them back, but there was no way to climb down."

The dull ache in her heart sharpened until it brought tears to Cora's eyes. "Why is there so much death? Why does it have to be kill or be killed? Can there not be peace between people?" She asked with a trembling voice.

Her thoughts went to Alice and Uncas, whose love was not allowed to flourish, and to her father, murdered because of a grudge. Had he lived and returned to England, would he have lived to grow old? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Violence and cruelty existed everywhere and they bore many faces, some which were difficult to recognize.

"There can, but first all the wrongs of the world must be done away with," Nathaniel answered softly. "And all men must see beyond their differences and become brothers just like..."

Nathaniel's voice broke and when Cora lifted her head, she saw two glistening trails running down the young man's face. She reached up with motherly tenderness and wiped the tears away and suddenly, Nathaniel buried his face in the crook of her neck. She pressed him close to her and rocked him as she would a small child. It was odd to see such a courageous man reduced to tears, but sorrow and loss could make even the strongest crumble.

When Chingachgook returned, the stars had already shifted and the fire had nearly gone out; yet even in its dim light, he saw Nathaniel and Cora asleep on the ground. He rested his face on her shoulder, while she seemed to have her arms wrapped around him. It was a scene so intimate that the older man could not look upon it. He picked up his own blanket and found a soft, dry spot on the other side of the clearing, leaving the two to the peace of shared sleep.

* * *

Three figures stood at the edge of a high cliff, watching the land in deep silence. Nothing else surpassed the enormous height of the mountain they had just climbed, and below them, a green, rippling carpet spread out until it reached the horizon. The sun, which was only beginning its descent, shone with unchallenged splendor on a blue sky devoid of clouds. This was America: the wild and daunting.

Cora, Nathaniel, and Chingachgook stood together, allowing the peace of the land to soothe and soften the heartache they bore. The men lifted their hands to the sun, making slow, graceful motions that flowed with the wind while Cora mourned in private.

"Father, Creator of all life, another warrior flies to you now, swift as an arrow shot into the sun," Chingachgook said. "Please accept him among the council fire of our people. He is Uncas, Bounding Elk. Ask patience of him and tell him it will not be long, for they are all there but one: I, Chingachgook, the Last of the Mohicans."

The way he spoke broke Cora's heart and it dawned on her that he must feel the same loneliness she did. It was true Nathaniel was a great comfort to her, but she was still a stranger to the land, and more than ever before, she longed for the reassurance of familiarity. She wished she could dress in black and listen to mass in the small chapel they'd attended every Sunday in London. She wished for a priest to stand beside three coffins, blessing them for one last time, and to hear the tolling of bells announce her loss to the world. It was silly, but these rites would have helped bring closure to her.

At that moment, Nathaniel approached her and gently lifted her hand and placed something in it. Curiously, the woman glanced at her culled hand and saw a mixture of grasses and dirt sitting within.

"For your family, for the Major. To help them find their way," Nathaniel said, answering her unspoken question.

He bent down and took a fistful of soft earth and then lifted his hand up, slowly releasing its contents, letting them be carried off by the wind. Cora imitated him and watched the currents catch the grasses and send them flying into the sun.

"Again."

She repeated the motion, exactly like the two men. She did not fully understand what she was doing, but somehow the darkness that had settled in her heart began to recede. She thought of her father and the last happy moments they had shared. In his own way, he had cared and done his best by her and she would never begrudge him that. She thought of Duncan, who gave his own life in exchange for her own. No greater sacrifice could have been asked of him and still, he had accepted it so she could be free. And, she thought of her sister; her sweet Alice dead by her own hand because she could not imagine a world without Uncas. Yet would not Cora have done the same?

She threw the last handful of grass into the void and sent a blessing to those who were now before God. They were now free; they were now at peace.

She put an arm around Nathaniel and buried her face against his chest, sighing.

He put his arm around her and then, pressed his lips to her forehead. "Will you return to England?"

"No. There is nothing there for me now."

As Cora spoke, she realized she said it not with resignation, but rather with true conviction. England would always be there, across the Atlantic Ocean, but ahead of her lay a different kind of land, one that was vast and savage and which she longed to explore.

"Will you stay with me, then?"

There was no real need for words. Cora assented and a smile broke through Nathaniel's perpetual serenity. He took hold of her head, pushing away the tendrils of hair that whipped about her face, and with great joy, he bent down to kiss her lips.

Chingachgook watched the exchange with a surprising sense of relief. Nathaniel was his son and, like a doting father, it warmed him to see he had found a woman who was willing to become like him and adopt this land as her home.

He turned back to the sun and sighed. He would continue to live as he had done and accept the changing, new ways of the land. He would continue to teach Nathaniel the ways of the Mohican so that his history and the history of his people would not be lost forever. And when the time came and he was called to meet the Giver of Life, he would rest, at last, knowing he had done well and his life had not been misspent.

Just then, Chingachgook sensed a presence behind him and felt his adopted son's hand over his shoulder. "Father, we are with you."

He turned around and saw both Cora and Nathaniel bearing looks of equal determination on their faces. They would never replace the family he had lost; it was impossible. But, perhaps, these two strong and hardy children of the English would be able to create a new family for him, one that would be able to adapt to the fast-changing times, but that would also keep and honor the ancient ways.

Chingachgook turned his gaze on Cora and smiled at her, his newly granted daughter.

"Then I accept you both."


	24. Chapter 24

Autumn. In the dying light of the sun, the red and gold leaves of the trees glowed like thousands of tiny embers, rustling and crackling with every gust of wind that descended from the mountains.

In the valley stood a single cabin built of black pine that had dried and grayed with the passing of the years. Beside it extended a field of wheat, corn, and tobacco, the tall stalks waving merrily in the breeze as flocks of ducks and geese honked their farewells overhead. They were moving on to warmer climates and would return at the first sign of spring when the snow in the mountains receded and the ice cover of the river melted. The woman who sat on the rocking chair in the neat porch of the cabin took this in without a single word.

She loved the changes of the seasons, loved to watch for the little hints of nature that foretold of what was to come. At the beginning, she used to think it was impossible to learn how to read the changes in the environment, but with time and a lot of practice she'd learned to do this and more. The turn of summer into autumn, however, brought her a bittersweet sentiment which she kept hidden from everyone except her husband. Not a year went by when she did not recall the events of a late summer in which her life had shattered and she'd been reborn into a new woman.

Suddenly, her peaceful reverie was interrupted by the sound of two pairs of feet running outside from the cabin. Two children of no more than six appeared, giggling excitedly, their faces flushed red from the sudden contact with the cold air.

"We're finished!" A boy with dark, penetrating eyes exclaimed, as he placed his chubby, little hands on her arm.

"What, already?" She said, turning her gaze to the child and his sister.

"You said we had to finish shelling the peas and we did!

"Can we get a story now?" The girl asked, batting her long, golden lashes in an attempt to persuade her.

The woman blinked. The way the girl opened her eyes widely and the two beautiful arches of her eyebrows curved to give her a look of innocence reminded her of someone she'd known.

"Please, grandmother?"

The woman shook her head and sighed. Heaven had seen fit to bless her with three children, two of which had reached adulthood. They, in turn, had given her four grandchildren, whom she adored despite sometimes being severe with them.

Jonathan, the eldest, had just turned nine that summer and he'd begun working alongside his father in the fields and accompanying his grandfather to hunt. He was charged with minor tasks, but he did them proudly, glad to be separated from the "children" as he called his younger sister and cousins. George and Ellen were twins, though no pair had ever been so different. George was curious, inventive and mostly well behaved; while Ellen, though soft-spoken and sweet, was more mischievous. Little Sarah was not yet two, but she'd inherited the family's solemn and peaceful traits.

"Alright," she agreed. "We have time for one story."

* * *

Dusk settled in the valley and the stars began twinkling outside. The cabin was all lit up inside, its warm glow a welcoming beacon to the four men who were walking home. A boy walked behind them, carrying a brace of rabbits and a long-haired dog, skipped about happily.

They were already expected and as soon as the people inside heard one of the men halloo, a flurry of activity spilled outside. Two men carried a deer between them and they gladly handed it over to their wives who rushed outside to greet them. One was of Delaware descent and the other had English features though she'd been born and bred in America. They laughed and chattered in a curious mix of English and Delaware as they took the kills to the kitchen. The men and the boy greeted the other woman affectionately and then herded the children inside to wash for supper. Behind them, two older men waited expectantly.

"Chingachgook, this is a pleasant surprise!" The woman exclaimed when she saw who accompanied her husband.

Though his hair was now grizzled and his face lined with the passage of time, the Mohican had lost neither his spirit or strength; he was still the great warrior of the many tales that had spread far and wide in the land.

"Winter comes soon, daughter. I thought you might need the extra help with the harvest."

She smiled. "Indeed, I felt it in my bones. I'll have the girls prepare you a bed at once."

He patted her shoulder and made his way inside, where a chorus of children's voices welcomed their revered great-grandfather.

"And you, sir? Have you anything to say for yourself?" She asked, turning to the man who remained outside, casually leaning on an ancient carbine and watching her. Time had done little to change Nathaniel, except for streaking his hair with gray and placing a few wrinkles on his face. Like his father, he was still a strong man, but he was no longer able to streak through the woods with the speed of an arrow. He'd injured his leg and had been close to losing it had it not been for his wife's efforts. Nevertheless, he could manage to lead a hunt with great success and he remained an unparalleled marksman.

"I think I deserve a warm welcome," he murmured as he stopped but inches from her. "Even my father was graciously greeted into your home."

Cora lifted her face and the light from the inside caught her features, painting them gold. Yes, she was still the same woman Nathaniel had come to love many years back, and because he could no longer resist, he bent down and kissed her lips.

"Busy much?" He asked her, setting Killdeer off to one side, before embracing her.

"Not quite," Cora answered, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I took George and Ellen off their mother's hands to shell peas."

"That is good. Better to keep them busy, than to have them get into mischief."

"Don't be so certain. It cost me a story and I've had to make up new ones to keep myself from repeating them. These children, they don't enjoy the stories of my childhood."

He laughed out loud. "You must admit some are very strange. What story did you tell them?"

"I made one up and called it "The Maiden and the Elk", but do not worry, it has a happy ending."

Nathaniel sighed at this. The years had dulled the pain of their shared loss, but he often found himself thinking of Uncas and what their life might have been, had he lived to marry Alice. Maybe age was finally catching up with him.

"Well, I'll have to hear it for myself and maybe add a few more details."

"I don't doubt you will, she replied. "Now, go in and get ready for supper."

He obeyed, placing another kiss on her mouth before entering the house.

Alone, at last, Cora turned her gaze to the night. The stars glistened in the dark vault above and as she watched them make their slow progress across the sky.

In the many years since she'd arrived in America, she'd come face to face with danger, hardship, and sorrow, but also kindness, joy and love. She would never come to understand why these things happened, but she had learned to accept them for there was always a lesson to be learned. She thought of her parents, of Alice and Uncas, Duncan and her little boy. Though they were not present, she could still find them wherever she went: in the voice of the wind blowing through the trees, in the peace the first snowfall always brought, in the way the first flowers opened up their faces after the storms in spring.

Suddenly, Cora was overcome with sense of contentment and after a deep sigh, she whispered to herself, "I think I know this land at last."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where my tale ends and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did while writing it.
> 
> Once again, I do not own the story or the characters, and this has been written for fun and to be shared with others with no commercial intentions.


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